Healing Memories

I was with a group a while back where we were asked to tell about the best Christmas gift we received as children.

I told about receiving some homemade paper dolls from one of my aunts. Back then people would sometimes make paper doll clothes from wallpaper samples. I know this sounds pathetic but much of my childhood was pathetic.

Years ago I worked in fund raising at a Children's Home. Most people don't know what this is. They think it's an orphanage. But there are very few orphanages in this country. Most every child has a mom or dad.

But there are lots of sad stories. This particular children's home is a good place where the children live in beautiful brick cottages with house parents, go to school, receive counselling, and, for the most part, live well.

But most children would still rather live with their parents, no matter how bad it is. One day I stopped by a cottage to chat with a houseparent. He showed me to the bedroom of one of the children. It was the day before Thanksgiving. The child's belongings were neatly piled on the bed because he was excited about his mom picking him up after school for a home visit.

But the houseparent told me that she'd just called. She wasn't coming. It was the 4th holiday in a row that she wouldn't be coming. The houseparent was dreading having to tell the child.

Later in the day I scared up some tickets to a theme park so that he and the other kids who didn't get picked up by family could have fun on Thanksgiving.

I learned a long time ago that one of the best ways to heal my childhood memories is to make good memories for other kids.


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