Vol. 4, No. 1 • Fall 1999

Room for One More
by Trudy Delling

The phone rings�it�s the department of social services
on the phone. A damaged child is in need. I say, �Yes,
bring him over.� There is always room for one more.

They come to the door and in your arms they lay this dirty,
sick child with eyes that look past you, unable to attach to
another human being. Your heart aches for this empty
vessel with childlike features. A garbage bag comes with
this child filled to the brim with nothing but the stench of this child�s emotional and physical past. You place it out the back door. The first thing you do is wash and dress this beautiful gift of God, and make sure they are given a warm meal filled with all the love that they deserve.

You spend months loving, caring, and nurturing this being that very slowly, but always surely, comes to have that wonderful childlike sparkle in their eyes. His soul has been found, this wonderful being has found a reason to live and love again. Something that should come as automatically as breathing, but lost somewhere in his pain.

Then the system says, �His blood relatives want him back,� and says a minimal parent is better than no parent at all.

What about me? Oh, why can�t his blood run through my veins? When he looks into my eyes and calls me �Mommy� my heart says he�s my son, but the judge says he�s not. The pain is so overwhelming, sometimes I feel like my heart is going to burst, that I have to let go. But I will, because the judge says it will be so.

My prayers go with you, son. You will never know who held you those nights. But you will always have a piece of my heart, along with all the others that have come in and out of our home. But now when I think that I have no more pieces of my heart to give away, the phone rings again!

Love,
Your Foster Mom

Copyright � 2000 Jordan Institute for Families