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,” I add.
The server looks at me with greater respect. And a compassionate smile for the children.
——————
Names have been changed to protect the innocent. But this is the experience of many foster carers and kinship carers, every day.
“I just wish they would say, ‘Thank you,’ now and then.”
Swathes of Glory
As a care-giver I am aware that one of the most common complaints that fellow care-givers utter is, “I just wish they would say, ‘Thank you,’ now and then.”
It’s true. Although most people who require care really appreciate the help that they receive, many are in too much pain, either physically, mentally, spiritually, or emotionally, to think about showing gratitude. It isn’t deliberate. They just don’t know how to say it in the circumstances.
For example, one young girl told her grandfather, who is also her guardian, that she wished he was dead, mainly because he would not allow her to cause injury to her brother. The grandfather merely said, “Yes. I know. I can imagine you feel like that.”
Deep down inside, however, he wondered whether he was cut out for this role, or should he simply give up and send the children into foster care.
Next morning, there was a gentle knock on his bedroom door and his granddaughter walked in with a home-made card with a little drawing and the words, “I love you,” hand-written on the front. Inside was another message saying that she loved him, among other things.
Notable by its absence, though, was the phrase, “Thank you.” She just couldn’t bring herself to say it.
The Cosmos Thanks You
Some time ago, I was doing some work on Compassion Fatigue; mainly from the perspective of how to avoid it. As synchronicity would have it, though, I also went for an eye test that week.
After my test, I sat down with the “Frames Specialist” (read, sales woman) to choose new glasses. She commented that my choice of varifocals was useful for work.
I explained that I don’t work in the conventional sense. I am, for want of an easier explanation, a foster carer.
She immediately pounced on it and this random total stranger told me, “You’re doing a fantastic job. Well done.”
And I realised that it was not the first time something like that had happened.
A few years ago, my mother and I had taken the children to a café for lunch, and my granddaughter had been playing up. My mother, being old school, could not understand why I was dealing with the child in such a kindly manner. To be honest, the behaviour was getting to me, too!
Yet, as we left, a random total stranger sitting at a nearby table put his hand on my arm to stop me. He looked me in the eye and said, “You’re doing a fantastic job. Well done.”
Thinking about all these experiences it made me realise how often such things happen and that, even though we may not receive the expected gratitude from those we are charged to care for, we do receive gratitude. It’s as if the cosmos appreciates the work that we are doing to care for these poor souls who cannot care for themselves; who might otherwise be left to fend for themselves, maybe on the street.
So, next time the person you care for shows a lack of gratitude, think about all the times someone else has said it. And wonder whether, since that person doesn’t really know you, is it, perhaps, that the person was moved to say something, just when you needed it most?
Greenacre 9 