Safe place….

A child has no say in the family it is born to and when that family break downs, it has no say it the family it is placed with, when he/she goes into care. Imagine how terribly sad and frightening that must be for them. Fostering a child is both rewarding and challenging, but so badly needed. Foster carers are in short supply so if ever you were toying with the idea, go for it. Give a child a chance………

Photo by Brett Sayles on Pexels.com

Imagine leaving home and all you know which is familiar to you and not know where you are going or when you are going back. Imagine being told you have to stay there now. Imagine being 7 years old.

Imagine your child, your niece, cousin, grand daughter, friend…. imagine if it were them that had to leave. Isn’t that just the saddest thing to imagine. In that situation you would at least hope, that they would be happy, safe, cared for and loved…..

As a foster carer, I have looked after 13 children for various duration and various reasons and I would hope that they all feel that they were safe, cared for and loved. As a foster carer I know I put my and heart and soul into them, to take care of them and keep them safe.

This is a poem I wrote about the journey, a sample if you like, of what it must be like for the child……

Placticine…

A door stands between them, white pvc

Nothing extraordinary, just a typical front door

She is small.  Blonde hair and big blue eyes

barely seen as her fringe lays a screen over them

Her shoulders raised, tort and tense, almost

Touching her ears

Nerves and fear swimming around every cell

In her little body

Politely she whispers ‘hello’

As she crosses the threshold  

The door closes behind her

It takes a village they say, to raise a child

Soon they would find out

Small steps and quiet voices, calm

Kind, encouraging, acknowledging,

Knowing and Pausing

Curiosity unites them both

Of what the other is like

What the other likes and doesn’t like

Inquisitively, she wanders from room to room

Gently she touches the surfaces of inanimate objects

Observing her demeanour there is something

Soothing about her, but also something

Akin to sadness

And as it seeps from her it connects the two

Together, and so the bond is formed

A sense of permitting the arm of trust to reach out

And be held

Gradually the shield around her

That guards her

drops down

And so too do her shoulders

One day, many years from this one

She is able to shout and protest and make

Noise and scream and punch and stomp

And laugh and cry

Knowing it is safe to do so

She is safe in this place

That this place is her home

Like plasticine, they have moulded to the ways

Of the other

They have integrated, assimilated and absorbed

The others’ disposition

They understand and know

That when the day comes for her to leave

They will still love

They will still care

They will still be open

and the door will revolve

For the bond is resolute