I went to a Blue Sky Christmas dinner and found myslef sitting with a delightful couple. Came into the conversation that they were Muslim. I asked them what Christmas was for them and they replied with a gentle smile "Well, no disrespect, for us this year it's just another Thursday." Then they added; "Unless we are caring for a child who needs to celebrate Christmas."
Our current eldest foster child needs and deserves extra love and care over Christmas. I'm unable to elaborate why, their privacy paramount, suffice to say they find the Winter holiday a massive challenge.
Most children in care do.
More than anything else, their challenge is their real family and how those people act towards their child, who someone else is caring for because they can't get it right at the present time.
Christmas is a challenge in fostering. And an opportunity.
Going back, 'Amanda' was 7 years old. She had been with us nearly 6 months and was comfortable around us, almost family.
Then Christmas came along.
Amanda, as many looked-after children often do, put on her act of "I'm cool with all this, you guys look after yourselves". So we kind of did.
The build-up to Christmas seemed ok, but the foster parent stays on look-out.
Couldn't have spotted what suddenly happened, no warning.
We heard a sad sound coming from upstairs.
Amanda was inconsolable, angry, despairing.
Amanda cried herself out. When children in care have an episode they're often particularly reachable immediately afterwards. We talked.
Turned out Amanda was sad that her real family had never done Christmas beyond the partying; alcohol and...confrontations. Turkey? Forget it; no takeaways available back then so they ate crisps and soaked up the liquid with bread and cereal. Presents? No chance, apart from adults arriving with 'gifts' of bottles.
Did Santa come? Did he eat the biscuit put out for him and drink the glass of milk?
More likely he stayed the night and made a lot of noise in mum's bedroom.
We had to turn Amanda around, and it remains one of my joys of fostering that it happened.
Let me say; like a lot of parents I'm confused about the materialism of Christmas. But; if it fixes something that needs fixing in a poor, lonely, distressed child, it's ok with me.
Amanda came down on Christmas morning a fish out of water. Our own children were already down and buzzing. They knew the drill. Under the tree was a pile of presents, and hanging from the mantlepiece were stockings, each tagged with the name of the child. Amanda saw one labelled "Amanda". I whispered that there were a bunch of big presents under the tree that also had "Amanda" on them.
She took her lead from our kids, who'd been through the ritual before.
They took turns to open each stocking gift, one at a time. They all had a chocolate orange in their stocking, plus a separate wrapped-up real orange.
Dad went into the kitchen and came back with toast.
Medium size presents from under the tree were opened next; CDs, headphones, a bobble hat here, some gloves there. Amanda unwrapped a story book about a comic hero; "Zaneshi".
Crowning moment was the final gift; each child had a main present.
When it was Amanda's turn my heart was pumping for a bunch of reasons. I was desperate for her to feel joy.
She tore off the paper and it dawned on her that her dream had come true.
She stared in wonder at the box.
It was a build-it-yourself model of the mountain lair of Zaneshi.
All Christmas Day - and for months after - Amanda coveted her Himalayan castle even more than she played with it.
Here's the kicker; a couple of days after Christmas she came to me in the kitchen and asked;
"Mum? How do you peel an orange?"
Her orange.
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