Responding to the desperate claims of needing lunch now, we find a quick serve café. The children aren’t interested in the fact that there are no tables for four people. They have to get to the counter to buy their food.
The server looks at their sandwich, bag of popcorn, and drink and says, “Wow! You’re having a treat today.”
Jenny (age 7) says, “It’s not a treat. It’s lunch.” The server laughs at the apparent innocence.
“Sadly,” I said, “It’s not as funny at it seems. We are fostering them.” (We find that more people understand fostering than kinship caring.) “Before they came to us they were neglected until she was 3 years 9 months. They never knew where their next meal was coming from, or when it would be.
“Mind blowing, isn’t it.”
The server looks at me with greater respect. And a compassionate smile for the children.
Names have been changed to protect the innocent.