FOSTER PARENTING BOOK: CAN YOU AT LEAST LEAVE A COMMENT.

Tuesday, November 08, 2005

CAN YOU AT LEAST LEAVE A COMMENT.

Even if it is way too much to read this time come back. but read the side bar and please comment even ,a "I was here".

9 comments:

k8 said...: i was here. :); 7:01 AM
Walking Contradiction said...: I was here.; 3:04 AM
Kori said...: This is such a touching story. It is so true when they say - God sends mothers because he cannot be everywhere.
Thank you for everything you did and are doing for these kids; 2:21 PM
Myz Red said...: This was a beautiful story. I love kids and I will do anything for then. I have to kids of my own, a boy and a girl the boy is 7 and the girl is 2.

I feel touch when I read this story. That was so nice of you in so many different occassions. Keep up the good work.

Anything new about your family now?; 10:23 AM
Lynda said...: I was here. I probably will have to read later. :(; 2:19 PM
fancy-face said...: I was here..sniff...sniff..unfortunately this is what's happening all over the world, when your not responsible enough to take the necessary precautions..and as usual , it's always the children who pay for..; 6:16 PM
Mom of Six said...: Hello buddy! I was here. I wanted to show Pat where he can read your story. Wow, you have had an amazing life. I am blessed to have you as a friend. You're one of the great ones. :); 7:40 AM
Tamara said...: Thank you so much for stopping by my blog - you story is amazing, and the work you've done with foster children is uplifting and inspirational. After our 1 yr., it's hard to imagine doing it for as long as you did. I'm grateful for having read your story.; 6:44 AM
happyadoptingmom said...: Thanks for writing this. I cannot imagine the pain of seeing so many children come and go through your home without the proper lessons being taught to the birth parents. We adopted our first placement whom was dropped off straight from the hospital. You are awesome. On that final day when you stand in front of God our holy father. He will say to you good job my good and faithful servant. Have a joy filled life; 7:08 AM

THIS IS AN ESSAY I WON A FEW AWARDS FOR

They come into my home frail and broken. They are afraid of every quick movement and flinch when I reach to brush their brow. The tears well up in my eyes and I have to blink them away. Some are going through withdrawals from their mothers addictions. They cry all night they cry all day. I rock them and hold then and sing to them quietly, praying their pain will go away. When they quiet down I wipe their tears away only to feel my own have started to fall down my face. Somehow I make it through these hard times and after these first trials, I notice that when I look in their eyes someone is looking back at me. I teach them touch is good and closeness is nice. It's OK to love and be loved back. I try to keep them well, and nurse them when they're sick.I clean their messes, wipe their faces and pick them up when they fall. I watch them learn to crawl, then walk, and learn to call me mommy.I tuck them into bed and pray for the best in their lives. I have been on a fast-moving emotional roller-coaster ride up one hill and down two valleys. Just when I think it's time to end the ride, they add more tracks, then comes the bumpy finish. Hang on for the finale! I pack up their things, never to forget their favorite toy. I make sure I have every last shirt and sock. The tears seem to sneak up on me when they're wanted the least. I brush then away hoping nobody sees. That final hour is coming up fast and I know the best thing for everyone is for me to hold back my tears. The worker shows up and I think my life is ending. I kiss them good-bye, praying God's will be done. My arms are handing them over,, my heart is sucking them back. They drive away and I let my tears fall. I think I will drowned in my own tears. A day or so later I dry my eyes and notice a hole has been burned through my heart. I still use too many noodles and set too many places at the dinner table. I look behind me to finish my count, only to be reminded there's one less of us now. Why do I do this I ask myself, Then I remember what they were like way back then. I think the pain in my heart could never go away. Why do I do this I ask myself again. The phone rings. There's a worker on the other end, "We have another one." ,,,,,,,,,, "Bring him on in."

FOSTER PARENTING BOOK

Tuesday, November 08, 2005

CAN YOU AT LEAST LEAVE A COMMENT.

9 comments:

THIS IS AN ESSAY I WON A FEW AWARDS FOR

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