Those Neglect Stories are Real

My family has been very busy this week preparing for Christmas this weekend.  We did a lot of shopping and baking.  I was sitting at the table today working on my shopping lists as my 5 and 6 year old were decorating gingerbread houses.  I had found them on sale for $4.00 each on a dash to the discount bread store.  Every so often a teenager would wander in and lend a hand.  Another teenager wanted to wrap presents so she locked herself in my bedroom with the wrapping paper.  It was all very peaceful to me as I watched them work and interact with each other.  However, my mind was clouded with stories of past Christmases for my foster kids.  A foster child will not sit down and tell you their life story the minute that you ask but bits and pieces come out in the course of daily life.  One child told me that she had never gotten a present before.  Well, maybe a few but Mom always took them away saying that she was too naughty.  She did not get them back.  Another told me that she didn't like candy because it made her teeth hurt.  When she said that I asked her to open up and let me see.  Most of the teeth on the left side of her mouth had cavities so big I could see them.  From that moment on, I noticed that she only chewed on the right side of her mouth.  A trip to the dentist immediately followed Christmas for that little girl.  I grew up in a home that wasn't perfect but my parents loved me and I always had food and clothing.  I now know what a blessing that is.  These stories are not just a stories of a poor family that can't afford Christmas.  These are stories of neglect.  My first reaction was disbelieve.  I just could not imagine a world where a child did not receive a present or go to the dentist when there is pain.  Another young lady knocked my socks off at Walmart when she did not want to go into the bathroom without me.  Finally she asked if I would still be there when she came out.  I reassured her that I would and that we had shopping to do.  She said, "Mom left me and my siblings in a Walmart when we were younger so I get worried."  She didn't just mean that they got lost and could not find Mom.  She meant Mom got in her car and left on purpose.  These kinds of stories leave me with the desire to wrap my arms around that child and not let go and then do it again. Foster parents have the power to heal the wounds from neglect.  We cannot take away the wound but we can pour so much love into it that the scar is hardly visible.  I am not a miracle worker, nor do I have specialized knowledge in the growth of children, but I know how to love a child unconditionally.  I know how to teach a child right from wrong and I know how to be a good example.  These are the tools of a foster parent.  Anyone with love in their heart can foster a child and make a difference in a child's life.