May I tell you her story?
She was born into Chaos and Instability. Her many siblings were "taken away" when she was only a baby.
Her story was a little different from theirs, though. Although she lived in that same filthy apartment where the children were severely neglected and where they cooked on a propane camp stove (because there was no electricity), her dad (different from each of their dads) came from a "good family." She had an escape called Grandma's House. When Child Protective Services came to do their thing with her siblings, she was visiting Grandma. It took a little longer for her to be removed from the home. Her story was to be different.
Her aunt had a family of her own. This home was filled with Laughter, Activity, and Love. Drugs, roaches, and poverty were not welcomed in this home. The little girl's aunt knew that, because they were family, she had to take her into this very different home of hers. It was duty. It was required of her.
So she took her in. She gave her all she needed, but she did it out of duty. She did what she must.
The girl grew into adolescence. Although she had the body of a woman, her soul was still that of the neglected, unloved little girl. She found "love" with her boyfriend and soon learned that a little life was growing in her womb.
She can't figure out if this life is a catastrophe or a glimmer of hope.
It is a life that gave her a second chance. A life that she swore she wouldn't screw up. A life that she wouldn't allow to be like hers.
But she just doesn't know how.
1 comments:
This post represents so many of the foster youth I've known. So many of them are still hurt children in grown up bodies. I love that you recognize this and care for these kids, they need people like you, and your mom, who are there, not because of duty, but because your heart hurts for them.
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