I know a girl named Jane. Jane is in high school and every
day she writes poems. She gives me these poems to read and asks me what I think
about them. I (kind of) joke around with her and tell her how depressing they
are and how she should write something happy for once. She may think that her
miniature poems are as arduous as riddles to me, but I’m not blind to the fact
that these “riddles” are windows to Jane’s soul. These riddles scream out the
hurt she has gone through and the pain she harbors. These riddles are more than
words on a paper – they are an outlet of her confusion and anger. Jane, along
with her brothers and sisters, was taken away from her mother and father at a
young age because of the mother and fathers’ inability to lead healthy lives. Jane
smiles and laughs and seems secure and confident. But it’s all a mask.
I also know a girl named Shiloh. ALL Shiloh does is laugh.
Her smile and giggle could bring joy to even the grumpiest of critics. Shiloh
is VERY outgoing and friendly – maybe too
outgoing for her age. Shiloh is in junior high and was taken from her mother
(who gave birth to Shiloh when she was just 14 years old) at a very young age.
Shiloh’s mother is an addict and has no contact with her daughter. Because she
was abandoned at such a young age,
Shiloh now has severe trust issues. She is codependent and looks for acceptance
in ALL the wrong places.
Dylan is also in junior high. His parents are divorced. His
mom is a drug addict and his father is homeless. Dylan was given his fathers
old guitar and was so proud of it that he refused to accept a brand new case
for it, and instead wanted keep the old ripped case that he had to tie together
with a shoe string, because it was the one his father gave him.
Justin and David are brothers. Even though they are in
junior high, they know things well beyond their years. They repeat things that
they could have only learned at home. Discipline and respect are a HUGE issue
with Justin and David. While displaying “tough love” to them one day, a
co-worker and I had our assumptions reaffirmed: instead of being spoken to like
human beings with worth, the two boys are constantly yelled at and talked to in
degrading manners. Leaving them feeling that they are something far from the
truth: worthless and unlovable.
What can be difficult to remember most of the time is – that
these kids are in my life because they have a difficult time dealing with their
own life. They are looking for a form of escape and a safe haven – something
that I and my co-workers are able to provide for them.
I could go on and on about others like Jane and Shiloh and
Dylan and Justin and David…because even though Jane and Shiloh and Dylan and
Justin and David may not be real names, Jane and Shiloh and Dylan and Justin
and David are real kids whom I
happen to have contact with, along with many others like them, every week day.
It is obvious to say that these kids need a Savior. But it
might be less obvious to say that, each day, these kids save me, in a way that I
continually over-look, dismiss and ignore.
They save me from believing that life is all about me.
They save me from living in my own world, with my own
problems, and my own hurt. They pull me out of my selfishness and give me life.
Because each day – these kids live.
They choose to keep going – fighting through whatever life
throws their way.
And I see them fall and get back up again. I see them learn
and grow.
I see them take the poor cards they have been dealt in life
and try to make the best of all that they cannot control.
I see these kids dream real
dreams. And cry real tears.
I see them have more strength than I could ever imagine.
These kids didn’t choose
to be born into the lives they were given – but each day they choose to not be
overcome by it.
