One of the most rewarding experiences in fostering is when a child in your care opens up.
It doesn't happen often, but when it does it's magic.
Children coming into foster care are almost always tight-lipped about their past experiences, and keep their feelings about being in fostering to themselves. It's a shame because the more you know about a child the more you can tailor your care to fit their needs.
One child aged six who ended up being with us for a long time didn't want to tell anyone about their past horrors mainly, it turned out, because the child had blanked them out of their memory. So what happened with that child was that once they felt secure and at ease with their new foster home they began asking questions about how their early life turned out the way it did.
The child would collar me alone and ask for information about the people in their real home and the things that took place. The child would then ask the $64,000 dollar questions such as "Why would they do that to a kid?" or "Why didn't somebody stop them?"
Wrost of all for me to hear was when the child asked "Why didn't you come and save me?"
It was most harrowing for the child, who I'm relieved to report, is now recovering; and stands as good a chance of being ok as any other of today's children. I have an admiration for this young person that inspires me in many ways.
You can get this if you foster.
Which brings me to today; an incredible moment.
Well, to be precise; an incredible couple of hours.
It came from our eldest foster child. I've mentioned them before several times. The child is transitioning and doing so with commendable dignity, goodwill and above all sincerity.
The youngster is off school at the moment with flu.
This young person is a credit to humanity, I wish I could say the same about many of the people who condemn trans people, but hey ho.
The youngster cleared out their bedroom early this morning. Two bulging bin liners of cans and wrappers.
The recycle bin was already full so I advised putting the bagss next to it and said I'd sort it later.
I was sitting in the living room with a morning cup of tea. Normally the child would wish me a polite "See you!" and scuttle back to the safe haven of the bedroom.
This morning the youngster lingered.
Lingered at the living room door.
Talking.
The youngster ended up chatting to me for nigh on two hours. When I say "chatting" I really mean opening up. Telling me everything from the things that had gone on in their early life, the confusions of their feelings, the reactions and interactions of friends and family, their hopes and dreams and more.
"More" such as relationships and friendships.
Love, even.
And yet more.
"More" such as; their fears for themself if unhappiness kicks in, their fears about the world, about war, about their prospects.
Eventually the kid yawned and said "I better get up and get some sleep."
Then uttred a small but genuine "Thanks".
And went.
Leaving me with a dancing heart and only one regret namely I had no-one to share it with. But wait...
The countdown is on for my next visit from our Blue Sky Social worker.
Drink will be taken in celebration!
Builders tea mind...
0 comments:
Post a Comment