This week I had the chance to chat with some of “our kids” who have aged out of the system, or have been placed in a “forever home”. These are ones who I have known for the past 10 years. As we sat down to catch up on life, both of these girls caught me off guard with the stories they shared from the past. Not because it was uncommon, but because it was so common and yet, a part of me often forgets the simple reality and impact of something so small.
As I sat down for lunch with this one, like we had done many times before, catching up on life, dreaming about her future, and celebrating the fact that she is double majoring after missing so many years of school due to living in a home and not having her correct papers, she said this: “Hey, do you remember...”.
She went onto share about her desire to do a school/backpack drive in the near future because it was one of the greatest things that impacted her life while living in the home. She told me that the backpack we gave her was her FIRST new backpack. It was the first time she received school supplies that she didn’t have to share, and pens she didn’t have to turn in to prove that the ink was gone before getting a new one. The simplicity of a backpack marked her life. She shared that today, she still has that backpack and often uses it. It is a reminder of those who loved her, but also where she came from and where she is wanting to go. This small token, a backpack, changed her life.
Then it was a simple message that lead to a phone call. Another wrote this week thanking me for the impact we had on her life. She reminded me of a pair of shoes we gave her. Her FIRST new pair of tennis shoes she had ever received. You see, this one was rough around the edges, and some would say she still is, but we always saw the gold in her. This one would hide from every person that would come into the home, avoiding any ounce of love and affection, even eye contact. But yet, she was my distant shadow. Over the course of many months and many trips, I found her at the foot of my bed every morning and night. She would come into my room as I had the worship music on, only to sit. She wouldn’t say much, she would just observe. Little by little the trust began to grow. Over time the conversations began and I learned about her earlier years living on a farm. A life filled with abuse and neglect. A life spent “pleasing and pleasuring” the men who she would call family: uncles, fathers and friends. It wasn’t just the men, but the women as well. The mom who was supposed to protect her not only tolerated the abuse, but then joined in on it as well.
This one came to us like many others: fearful, disconnected, emotionless and empty. But today, I get to sit on a phone call with this same one, who is daily choosing to move forward with her life. Today, her response was, “Thank you for the memories, thank you for remembering me, and thank you for those shoes. They will forever be remembered as my first new gift. It is making me cry.”
You see, these aren’t just my stories, but yours as well. Even though it's usually myself or our team who get to be the faces these kids see or the names they know, it is you who make stories like these possible. It is not just us, providing for the thousands, but you. We are simply the hands. Our incredible, generous partners. You are the reason why we get messages like these. You are a part of the bigger story, the greatest impact in a world that is changing. Your seed, that may often feel small, is actually sowing into something so beautiful, something so great. These are two girls, who have gone through hell, but are choosing to write something beautiful with their story. And the seeds that were planted, were as simple as a backpack and a pair of shoes. Oh how simple it can be, to love well.
- Jaclyn Miller