Originally posted by Betty Jo Harter
The phone rang first week of February 2005 at Beauty for Ashes. Will you please take and raise a 2 months old baby boy? We cannot feed him! Annie our social worker, covered the phone with her hand so the caller could not hear her and asked me if we could take the baby. Who is calling? Why do they want us to take the baby? “Unsa man?” What is the problem? “Please Annie tell them to come the next morning and we will talk”. I have learned not to commit myself until I know more facts unless it is a trusted social worker calling for help. We do try to search diligently for a way for parents to keep their children unless they have been harmed.
When Annie gave my request to the caller to come the next day for a meeting she told me the conversation that took place on the telephone. It seems that a former patient’s mother called and knew a couple that had given away their baby boy at birth to a single woman. The single woman got tired of the baby and brought it to a neighbor of the birth mother. The friend advised them not to just keep giving the baby away to someone they did not know and without legal papers. She advised them to give the baby to us, and so the meeting was arranged for the next day.
I told Annie, my social worker, “I will not take that baby home. I do not take the responsibility away from parents. If they cannot feed the baby we will help them. How much does milk cost anyway?” I have done many things to keep families in poverty together. Helping them start a small business, and building primitive housing for them. I truly beg the Lord’s guidance to know which children to take, and the ones that need a little help and encouragement to stay together as a family.
I related the story to Gus, and he just groaned! I told the children at home that I would not take this baby as they eagerly got excited for another baby. I just brought Naomi home a week ago. The bedroom is already full. I will not bring this baby home! I am never prepared for the picture before me of a family starving.
In the office the next day sat a man, a woman and 3 children. One a two months old baby boy wrapped in a ragged dirty cloth but absolutely perfect and beautiful beyond words. Well cared for by the single woman! Behind the dirty faces and dirty torn clothes of the other 4 or 5 year old boy and 10 year old girl were confused frightened children. I could just imagine the abuse and quarrels they witnessed from the man and woman. I said man and woman because I did not know if by my observation that they were even the parents. So I immediately took the baby in my arms, fixed a bottle and started to feed him. He looked at me and began to “coo”. I said out loud “don’t do that, I am not taking you home. My room is full of babies. Where would I put you anyway? No more beds, hardly any more floor space. Don’t smile at me! I’m not your mother!
I turned to the man and woman and said, “Ok, let’s unravel this story from the beginning so I can determine how I can help you. What do you need for you to keep this baby? Let’s start with, where do you live?” “We don’t have anywhere”, the woman said. She continued to stare at the floor. It was obvious she had been abused or threatened by the man and clearly had a mental problem. The other two children would not behave so we could talk. I asked one of the children from the home to please take them outside so they could play and we could finish our conversation. I turned to the man, who had a heavy beard and was almost disoriented. I said, “Is this your baby?” He answered immediately, “No”, “I did not think so”, I said. I just somehow knew that was only a small part of the problem. I turned to both of them and said, “Are you married?” “No”, was the answer.
I soon learned the whole story. The woman had no idea who any of the fathers were! She lived occasionally with her father who lived with an illegal wife, and it just got worse from there. I truly do not know what this man’s involvement was with the woman. What I did know is that the family I wanted to help to keep their baby, was not even a family! And this baby I had determined not to take home with me? I bundled him as the precious treasure that he was. The little 10 year old girl crying “Mama”, “Mama, they are taking our baby as I walked to the gate and to the car. Where does he sleep? In an arm chair pulled up to my bed so I can reach over and pat him as he whimpers between feedings?” He did not have a name. I named him Thomas. This Thomas never doubted for a moment that I was to be his mother, as he cooed at me on our very first encounter!!!
Mom Betty
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