I got a call earlier in the week, from a caseworker from OKC, that knew I was still waiting on a kid. (thank you Katie, you know what you did) LOL.
I wasn't all the way certified with DHS, though totally certified with Therapeutic Fostering, so I wasn't really "ready to go". I have to tell you, what transpired shortly after that fateful phone call, asking me to take my lovely, was short of a miracle.
Everything that had to happen, just fell into place.
Except the whole after school care for a middle school student in Norman. Absolutely big fat stinking nothing. NOTHING. Nada. Earlier in the day, I had called one program, and was told that because she is a middle schooler, that she couldn't attend the ON CAMPUS after school program. Just "couldn't"
I was beyond ticked. Oh never, tick off the lolly.
So on the way home, I took a chance on this program, and I called "Harold". He answered the phone and I told him he just might be my most favorite person ever on the planet, if he could help me solve my problem. He heard my plight, and told me "I've been needing a 6th grade helper, and I think she'll do great". Tears and snot, people. Tears and snot of gratitude.
Fast forward to noon today. It was like I was waiting to go into labor. Nerves, anxiety, thrills, anticipation. Phone rang, I raced home. My lovely arrived and all was well the entire time her worker was here. No problems. We visited, we conversed, we laughed, we discussed... I'm thinking "Easy peasy".
Foolish me.
We went to the school to enroll her and she melted down. Not in a quiet, sobbing in the corner, either, I'm talking the loud, ugly cry. The one that makes other people all around cry with you in sympathy. At least that's how it worked for us.
This is tough. Imagine being 11 years old, and being taken from your family, and put in a shelter with 95 other kids. You are wearing clothes from a community closet, and the other kids are very very mean to you. You have your little brother and that's all you have. Then after 2 weeks, your case worker walks into school and says, Oh Hey, you are going to live with a wonderful foster family, and oh, your brother can't go.
She was heartbroken. And I don't mean, just sad. I mean HEARTBROKEN.
Which made me heartbroken.
Made Hallie heartbroken.
She hasn't eaten one thing since she has been here. She has sipped some water, and cried for her brother and mom.
I wish I could say it was such a wonderful time, and we are doing great things with her, but instead I can tell you she sat quietly in the back yard stroking the dogs heads, and just looked to the north. And my heart broke some more.
I don't know how we are going to do this deal, but I'm going to figure it out for her. I want her to know that life is so much more than what is staring her in the face this minute. I want her to feel happy in the fact that she is a kid, and not a grown-up having to make grown up decisions for her brother. I want her to feel joy again, and not the weight of responsibility of a dysfunctional family. (though we put the "Fun" in dysfunctional).
We prayed together and I hear her in there crying quietly, and I feel righteous anger. Anger at parents that can't get it together for precious children. Parents that don't know the value of what they have. Parents that make wrong choices and put their children in danger. And anger for my helplessness.
God give me wisdom to show you and your light to my lovely, and let her feel safe here, and know that we care for her, and only want her happiness. Guide me and give her peace.
That is my prayer for today.
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