Don't Judge a Book By It's Cover

Sometimes I feel I lead a double life. Although you would not say that each aspect necessarily coincides with the other, both sides are very real to me. So, before you think I am insane....

Last night, the Relief Society President(a sweet lady from our church) came over for a visit. There was a lot of lighthearted chit-chat going on between the two of us, when the subject came up of me working a graveyard shift, at the treatment center, on Saturday night. Not wanting her to think I would start becoming inactive at church on Sundays, I explained that working the Saturday graveyard was not my usual routine and extenuating circumstances at work had lead to me taking that shift. A 4 to 11 shift on Saturday night had resulted in not returning home until 9 am Sunday morning. No more explanation seemed necessary, and the conversation was about to turn to another subject, when.........across the table, the mouth of my five year old opened. Kennedy, excited to have something to add to the conversation, blurted out, "Yea, some girl beat up the staff at Mamma's work, and Mamma had to take her down." I wish I had a picture to post of the expression on the Relief Society President's face. It was priceless, but not an unusual response.

Whenever I give a slight indication of what my job is about at the treatment center, people always have the same response...why do I do it? Yes, I work with some rough kids. Yes, I am putting myself at a high level of risk each time I show up. Yes, the kids there sometimes make me forget that expletives are not typical everyday vocabulary. So, why do I do it? The answer is simple...because they are children. Their ages range from 8-15, and the only thing that differentiates them from my children, or the neighbors children, is that they were dealt a very bad set of cards. Raped at the age of five, left behind by a mother that preferred drugs to her children, sold for prostitution, parents in prison, physically abused by people who were suppose to care for them. The stories and the trauma are hard to fathom, but are their reality. Yet, by some miracle, they are able to obtain some normalcy in their lives. They still laugh, play tag, jump rope, giggle about boys, stress about school and want to be loved. I am not naive in thinking that my contributions are going to change their lives. But, I hope that in some small way I am helping them to realize there is a better world, they are loved, and they deserve a fighting chance. So, yes there is a chance that I may one day obtain physical injury, but scrapes and cuts will not take away the joy I find in working with these kids.

...back to the double life. Sunday, I had to giggle as I stood in the kitchen making cupcakes from scratch. Some people might label me as the quiet, reserved, Mormon girl. Those people might be surprised if they were a fly on the wall of my life for a day. I do have another side.