Posts Tagged ‘foster-care’
Listening…
At the top of the page it says they told me to talk to everyone – and most of the time that’s what this is about.
But just to show you that it can work the other way, this is what happened when someone talked to me:
We had taken six children to Bewilderwood. I suppose you could call it a theme park – but with a difference: Instead of flashing lights and screaming roller-coasters there is a wonderful collection of climbing frames and slides and aerial walkways all hidden away in a Norfolk woodland. The man beside me, watching the children cavorting overhead observed: “In my day we built our own tree-houses.”
And so he had. He went on to tell me about the incredible construction he and his pals had put together 35ft up an oak tree – all made out of odds ends they had found lying around on the farm.
“It all came to an end when one of the lads fell out of the tree and broke his arm.” he said. “His Mum gave him a clip round the ear and the grown ups came and took our house down – we had to go to all the trouble of building another one deeper in the woods…”
And so we fell to talking – and this was his story: He and his wife had moved into a bungalow when the children left home. Retirement was just a couple of years away and they had plans to travel a bit and enjoy the peaceful life. But then my new aquaintance found himself in court watching a judge decide the fate of their two young grandsons – both under the age of five.
The boys’ mother had decided she couldn’t cope and handed them over to the social services – who explained that foster-care was not a long term solution. The judge observed matter of factly that unless a family member was prepared to take them, then the boys would be put up for adoption.
“What could I do,” said the man beside me. “I couldn’t just sit there and say nothing so I stood up and said we’d take them.”
It was only later that he told his wife about this.
Standing in a woodland with the shouts of a hundred children all around us, it was an extraordinary story to hear.
“So we moved back into a bigger house,” he said. “And I can’t see myself retiring now…”
So what do you think? Do you think I should have shaken my head at the way of the world and said: “Good for you,” and wished him well – or do you think I should have told him about what I do? How he could use a bit of time every week to build up an income which would allow him to retire in a few years and provide for all the children’s needs far into the future – something to solve all his problems.
What do you think?