lot a home

Wednesdays Child is full of woe.  I did not understand this line from the poem Monday child. It was about thirty years ago, a friend of my daughter’s mother had a brain aneurysm, the mother was dying her name was Michelle. She had five kids in ages from 8 to 18; her husband was killed in Vietnam during the war. On her death bed she had ask me to take and raise her children.

Michelle story is one I am not here to tell.  Of Michelle’s children I raised two that I now call my own. After Michelle’s death the state came in and put the children in the foster care system as wards of the state. I had to be registered as a foster parent and my home be certified in order to take the kids.  At first I had all five the older two, one was getting married the other was on his own and looking to go into the service.  The state came and took the younger ones to a state group home while I was getting certified.  Michelle’s sister took the youngest boy and I by court order received my daughter friend and now sister Michelle and later we got Michelle’s Brother Danny.

The day that I went to pick up Danny from the state group home is one I will never forget. Michelle was brought to our home a drop off with all her belongings. It was a month or so later when the court let us have Danny. I went to the state group home to pick him up. The facility was a three ring security facility that is it had a twelve foot high double row chain link fence with barbed wire on top all the way around the facility.  From the guard shack you were let through one gate then it was close behind you before they would open inter-gate. Once inside you drove to a two story building and went through another security check, including being finger printed. I was there to pick up a ten year old boy not a convicted felon.

Inside I was met and spent forty five minutes talking with a psychologist, then Danny was brought in and another forty minutes of the psychologist.  We were then escorted to Danny’s room with a box to put his thing in. as we walked thru the common area Danny’s friend were excited for him to be going home. Many of the kids came up to us asking if they could go home with me.

 Have you even been to a dog pound to get a dog or walk thru the red light district? Well it was kind of like that.  

We got to Danny room after going thru a number of electronically locked doors, passing by glass enclose class rooms.  One room housed kids in strait jackets chained to the wall who were downs, and autistic children.

  Danny’ room was a small eight by ten foot room with tan or off white walls, a six inch by two foot window, a cot that was bolted to the wall and three shelve for his things, a writing desk with a pull out seat and an electronically locked gray metal door with a four by twelve inch window in it, Not much different than a jail cell.

Now I did voice my opinion of the group home and was told that it was also the state reformatory or detention center as if that made it all right.  It was clean and secure but there was no love of family.

I left with Danny and wish I could take those kids home with me. I don’t know of other Group home for children but I pray they are more of a home than the one I visited.

If you can become a foster parent, please, there are many children out in dire need of a good home.
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Think you for coming by and god bless.