I said a silent prayer to keep my daughter safe as I did every day when I left her at home. I had no real fear that anything would happen to her but......I trusted no one.
On my rounds today I was hoping that things would turn out well for one particular child. At least one of them was going home with a parent today. This was what being a Child Services Social Worker was about making sure the children in my care were cared for and safe.
I always made the Stephens’ House my first stop. There was so much joy there it was a good optimistic way to start my rounds. I sometimes made it my last stop too, after a really tough day.
As I rounded the corner and came up the drive way Richard was looking out of the window. He was always happy to see me. His foster parents Edgar and Olivia Stephens were good people but he looked at me and my husband as his rescuers. The Stephens had been fostering for the past four years, and I had placed about twenty children with them in the past two years alone. The children were always safe and most were reluctant to leave.
I had known from the start of Richard’s case eight months ago that this was the place for him, to heal. I had picked him up from the police station in the very early morning just before sunrise. Richard had been found wandering the streets late one night by two on duty police officers. It was a small community so his identity was not a mystery, one of them knew where he lived.
“What are you doing out here Richy?” Officer Reynolds asked gently. Richard had on only a shirt, shorts and a pair of flip flops. “Did you wander out?”
Richard was quiet, he had always been quiet at school. He never played with other children and could always be found in the corner of the playground digging in the dirt or singing to himself. He remained quiet now and did not say anything in response to Officer Reynolds’ questions.
“Let’s take you home Richy. I am sure your Aunt is worried about you.”
“His Aunt?” The second Policeman, Officer Drake was curious. “Does he live with his Aunt? Where are his parents?”
“His mother ran away not long after he was born and no one knows who his father is.”
“Has he ever done this before?”
“Sometimes, this is the third time I have found him out here.” Officer Reynolds answered. “Usually, it's during the day. His Aunt says he is a little touched.”
“Shouldn't, we call child services since this keeps happening?” Officer Drake usually patrolled on the other side of town. In the last few nights their Captain had decided to mix up the partnerships to avoid complacency.
“Nah, his Aunt is good people. I have known her since high school. We just have to take him back.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I am sure, would you prefer if they investigate this lady who is only trying to do her best by this boy.”
“No but, how does he keep getting out?”
“He just wanders off that’s all.” Officer Reynold dismissed the concern. “Come on lets go. We have to take him back and get back to rounds.”
When they arrived at Richard’s home he began to scream and cry. He fought and struggled all the way to the front door.
When Richard’s Aunt opened the door, he screamed louder and wriggled free of Officer Drake’s hold and ran back to the police car.
“Don’t worry about it.” Officer Reynolds said to Officer Drake. “This happens all the time. When you see him in school tomorrow, he will be the same old Richy again.”
“No this does not sit well with me.” Officer Drake insisted this time after seeing Richard’s reaction to going into the house with his Aunt. “It is clear that this boy needs help. If he is mentally handicapped then he needs help regardless. He is terrified of going back into that house can’t you see that?”
“What I see is a Jr Officer who cannot follow instructions.” Officer Reynolds was getting impatient he wanted to close this case and end this night. “Get that boy and bring him back here now so we can move on.”
Richard’s Aunt stood in the doorway with her arms folded and the look on her face was not happy at being woken up in the middle of the night.
Richard was a nine-year-old boy and his entire family with the exception of his Aunt in the doorway had turned their back on him. They all felt he was not their responsibility and refused to help raise him. He had no mother, no father and no one else to talk to.
“This boy needs help and there is no way I am leaving him here.” Officer Drake walked back to the car opened the door and let Richard back in.
“Sorry Ma’am,” Officer Drake apologized to Richard’s Aunt. “You will have to pick him up in the morning from the police station.”
“Like hell I am. You can keep him. He is a lot more trouble that he is worth.” Richard’s Aunt yelled form the door. Then she stepped back inside and slammed the door shut.
I heard this Story from my husband Officer Drake when he called me to pick up Richard for the night, I was shocked. This is how children get lost on the way to adulthood. When people ignore them and their needs.
Richard was so tiny when I saw him for the first time. He was malnourished and dirty. At his Doctor’s appointment the next morning it was reported that Richard had strap marks on his back from years of beating and bruised bones from the night before. He had obviously run away in the middle of the night from a very severe beating hoping for help.
From that moment I would do anything to keep him away from his family. Thankfully no one cared enough to contest any of my recommendations and Richard was under my care in record time. He was lucky my husband was the one who had been on duty that night. Officer Drake had seen the signs and knew just what he had to do under the circumstances. Protect the child.
Richard was now the longest occupant of this particular home and the Stephens were now thinking about adopting him. He helped with the younger children and was a very gentle child. Given Richard’s past with his own family I was happy that he was getting the love and attention he deserved. He was the bravest child I had ever known. Under the care of the Stephens in only eight months he had flourished and grown.
I was there only for a checkup with the Stephens’, I had placed three other children there with them last week and I wanted to check on the them to make sure they were settling in.
My next stop was less joyful but, in most ways, I also considered Tiffany a success story. She reminded me of my daughter who was about a year younger than she was. But with since I identified more with Tiffany it was always more emotionally draining.
Janel, Tiffany’s mother had asked me to move her from her last home, without telling me why. We had a good relationship and I trusted that she was looking out for her daughter so I moved Tiffany with no explanation. Ever since I had removed Tiffany, she had been getting steadily happier and brighter. I still had no idea what had happened at the last home. I did a little investigating but there were no reports from any of the children about the foster parents. Tiffany assured me that she had not been ill-treated there ad that I could send other children there without fear. I would have to be satisfied with that. It could have been a case of bullying between the children.
“Are you ready to go Tif?” I called out as I walked up the young lady.
“All ready Lele.” Tiffany responded in that slow lazy tone which was so common to teenagers. She did at least give me a half smile in way of greeting this morning. This fifteen-year-old was not an ordinary teenager. She had been through three foster homes and she needed this forth and hopefully her last to stick for a while. She needed some stability. Before she was out on her own in a few years.
“Lele, my Mom visited me this morning.”
I stopped and turned back towards the stairs. So, this was the reason for the smile. “What did she say?”
“She came to say goodbye, she had her bag packed and was leaving. Said she will be back as soon as she could.” I hoped that this time for her sake her mother would keep her word and return soon. Too often Janel left for months and left her daughter worried and wondering where she was. Calling only one a week to check in.
Anyway, today was all about Tiffany. She looked happy, today at least she was smiling.
The first time I met her when she was ten years old, she was bawling and inconsolable. At every subsequent visit in the week following, she had not done much else but cry.
Today on this late summer day she had a beautiful little smile, I very rarely saw her smile and had heard her really laugh only twice. I have to be cautious with Tiffany. She had been let down by the people she loved most in this world and I hoped the foster family I was about to take her to could help her heal.
At age fifteen Tif’s mom Janel had run away from home. The police had found her and brought her right back home. She told me once that her father had cried on his knees after the police left and said he would never touch her again. Her mother just turned and went into the kitchen murmuring “You should not have come back.”
Two weeks later her father was in her bed again a ritual which started when she was eight years old and continued until she finally left his house a year later when she was sixteen.
Janel called what happened next with her father her madness and never talks about it because she cannot face her own weaknesses and guilt.
Thinking back on the taped sessions I had seen, I understood how she felt and struggled everyday not to make the same mistake with my daughter.
At eighteen years old I met Tiffany’s father Brent and fell in love. He disappeared soon after Tiffany was born and at first, he sent money.
She was such a pretty baby my Tif and she deserved more. One of my lowest points was when she was ten and we had no food in the house for two days. I was so tired of struggling, but we had to go on.
Somehow my father had found me. I later found out he had always known where I was. I found pictures of us when Tif as a baby. He always knew what he wanted. I was so stupid.
Anyway. He begged me to forgive him. I still remember his words.” Please, forgive me. Let me help you now, please. I am sorry. You know you are my special girl. I hate to see you like this.
I refused at first but he started sending clothes and money would be mysteriously deposited in my bank account. Slowly our life improved.
I never trusted him alone with my Tif but we did visit him sometimes. He was never alone in the house with her ever it was always me or nanny. Which he paid for so maybe I should have been more careful.
I did not know that the nanny was not coming that day. I was late and spoke with her she was on her way but. I left before she got there. By this time, I had gotten too comfortable with him I see that now. He had called the nanny and told her not to come which I found out later.
I had asked him once to pick up Tif and monitored when he dropped her off. But you don’t need much time, do you?
When I got home that night Tiffany was eating dinner and my father was watching TV he told me the nanny had just left. I thanked him, can you believe I thanked him. And he went home.
Tiffany had not eaten much.
I asked her if she was ok.
She said yes that she was ok. I told her to go to bed.
Tiffany my Tiffany was whimpered as she got up and limped a little as she walked. I asked her what happened to her, why was she limping.
She said she had a sprain on her thigh.
I got cold, really cold. I kept looking at her. She sat on her bed and whimpered a little when she sat.
I asked here again what happened.
She looked at me and I could see she was trying to come with another lie.
I asked her Tif did grandpa do this to you. I knew the answer though.
My little girl who I was supposed to protect. How could I have been so stupid, I thought I was protecting her by never leaving her alone with him. But he had found a way. I must have been crazy to trust him to expose my daughter to that monster.
I was cold so cold.
I put Tiffany to bed.
It was late but I knew where my mother kept the key
The knives were in a draw to the right.
After that all I remember is calling the police to tell them that I had killed my parents. I gave them the address and the police called social services for Tiffany. I prayed my daughter would be safe.
It was only a tape I was watching but at the end of her testimony I had cried and cried for Janel and what she had lost. When I did meet her in person she was only thinking of Tiffany and she begged me to never abandon her daughter as she had.
She pleaded temporary insanity and had gotten ten years for manslaughter. She was currently out on parole but had not taken back custody of her daughter. I believe she could not forgive herself enough to fight for her yet. Tiffany did not Blame her mother. She thought the world of her mother and thought she was a great hero.
I could only hope my daughter saw me the same way when she learns the truth one day.
As I dropped Tiffany off at the Walter’s I also had to check on Eric. Who had placed there 3 months ago.
The Walter’s were a little different than the last two house I had just left. They were a mother and her daughter who took in Foster Children I suspect mainly for the extra money. They treated the children well though and made sure they had lots of food and supervision. I was hoping the daughter who was twenty-five could be a good role model for Tiffany.
Eric was climbing a tree in the garden outside with Sheldon who was the only other occupant of the house right now. Eric’s Dad would be here in about thirty minutes to pick him up. I knew Eric was looking forward to seeing him again.
What Eric did not know was that he would be going home with his father today. I usually preferred to keep news like that until the last minute in case anything changed. Thankfully his mother would not be coming.
Erik’s parents were divorced. His father Dan and I had grown up in the foster system together. We had kept meeting up throughout our childhood at different homes. When Dan called me from jail crying that his son had bruises on his arms and legs, I was shocked. Dan’s wife was very angry about the divorce and had pressed charges against him for child abuse.
Eric had been tied to a chair and beaten on his arms, knuckles and feet. His wife had called the police and reported that Dan had abused their son to get back at her and dropped him at her door step. Dan called me for some help not to get out of jail but to remove his son from his wife’s care. It took some doing but I was able to have Eric first evaluated by a child psychologist who reported that the abuse was done by the mother and not Dan.
But even with the Doctor’s testimony the wife would not drop the charges. After two months of court cases, counseling sessions and supervised visits, Dan finally had his son back in his custody. He was now working towards getting his wife’s visitation blocked. He did not want to put his son in danger ever again.
“Eric, will you come down please.”
“Yes Ms. Lele.”
“I will be waiting for you inside.”
Eric jumped down from a branch halfway up the tree, I could still see the scars caused by the incident with his mother “Hello Eric, Have a seat. I have some good news for you.” I went straight to the point eager to give the Eric the good news.
“My Dad is coming to Visit me today?”
“Yes, he is. And. You will be going home with him.”
“Really?” Eric beamed.
“Yes, really. He will be here any minute. Do you need me to help you pack?”
“No, I only have one bag, I can do it.” Eric leaped from the chair and raced up the stairs. He was so eager to be going home with his father. I was happy that I had kept him safe though this hard part in his young life.
After a few minutes Eric came rushing out of his room with his bag. “Are you going to say good bey to Mrs. and Ms. Walter?”
“Yes, let me go now. Is Dad here yet?”
“Not yet any minute now. He can't wait just like you. He was very happy to be taking you home today.” As I said those words Dan came into view and parked on the road near the house.
We hugged and he squeezed me extra tightly. “Thank you so much for everything you have done for both of us.”
“You always came through for me brother. I am just happy I could help you now.”
“Where is he inside”
“Yes, he is saying goodbye.”
Dan and Eric left in a haze of happiness, hugs and kisses. Watching them drive away was the best end to my rounds for the morning.
My mind wandered to my own childhood when I moved from foster home to foster home and not for the first time, I was happy I was here to assist children like me. The ones no one wanted to deal with who had been abused. The children who had experienced so much difficulty in life at a young age and all they needed was a warm hug and lot of love to bring them on their way to recovery.
A Good Day