Took in a 14 year old girl because we can't find her MOM!

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^^^thanks for the info Grammy - I didn't know about "pins"! I did speak with the school counselor this morning (administration was gone yesterday), and told her what had happened. I've spoken with her before when we first took the girl in...she couldn't say much about the girl's situation, just that she's very familiar with her and her family situation.

BUT we did have a good talk about my own daughter. DD hadn't yet gone to see her, so she is going to go ahead and approach her and some of the other girls to see if they want to talk. Last year DD was part of a jr high "girl support group", which was absolutely amazing. They got together once a week just to vent...laugh, cry, whatever. Shoot...I forgot to ask the school counselor if they had a high school version. I'll have to do that tomorrow!
 
I myself am a foster kid. this is just on of the many stories I have about foster families! I have had 10 of them!

Fourteen and in another foster family; Dave and Anne Bennet. A lot of the homes I had been too had other kids, group homes was what they were called, but Jason and Sara were the first kids that looked up to me. However they didn’t look up to me because I set good examples…
Anne was the one who worked to provide for the family and I admired her for it. She would work all day everyday at three different jobs while Dave sat at home drinking away his problems. One day Dave’s drinking got way out of hand. Jason and Sara were playing on the floor next to me, while I did my homework. Then Dave stumbled in. I hated having those two little kids see Dave like that! Jason was only five and Sara three. I tried to get Dave back to his chair in the living room but he started to hit me over and over, fists flying, belt swinging.
That wasn’t the first time Dave had come after me but it wasn’t the last either. I had learned that by taking Jason and Sara to the neighbors and letting Dave hit me was the only way I could keep the kids safe. I also learned that fighting back just made everything worse.
I remember the fear in the kids eyes every time I took them next door. Sara would cry and cling to my shirt as her brave little brother would grab her hand and tell her everything was going to be okay. Jason was my little hero, my soldier. I love those kids.
But the last time I was too late…

Dave was in one of his moods when he ran into the kitchen, grabbed Sara by the neck and threw her against the wall. Jason ran to his sister but Dave grabbed him before I could get him and his sister. I tried so hard to get Jason but Dave had a knife. Finally after minutes of pleading, telling Dave he could have me instead, he dropped Jason. Both kids booked it to the neighbors. That night was spent in the hospital. Dave just wouldn’t stop. My entire back was raw from his belt, I had cuts all over my chest and arms, and at one point he twisted my arm until it snapped in three places. I don’t even know when I passed out but Anne came home to find Dave out cold in his chair, me on the floor bleeding and the kids at the neighbors. I spent the entire night in the hospital… right next to Sara and Jason. Sara had a broken arm and Jason had a concussion.
The next day Social Services took them away to a better place. I wasn’t so lucky. I was happy for them, they needed to be in a better place, but those kids broke my heart that day.
They had just found out they were leaving. Both of them ran up to me, wrapped their arms around me and said, “ I don’t wanna leave without you!” I’m not afraid to admit that I cried my eyes out for the first time in 8 years and melted as the kids did too, still clinging to my soggy T-shirt.
As they walked down the hall holding the social workers hand I remembered every time they smiled, cried, every time they made me play with them. I even remembered when they each lost their first tooth, lying in bed hoping the tooth fairy had already come…
 
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