While at home last year, a friend told me of a book that she was reading that reminded her of me. The Women Who Raised Me by Victoria Rowell. I bought the book and tried reading it while home. I failed to finish. Although our stories are different, there are really many similarities, especially the feelings that are common to children who grow up in foster care. I still struggle with these emotions but over the past week I decided to try to read the book again. It's been a challenge but I have stuck with it and am about two-thirds of the way through the book.
I've cried and prayed many days over the last week. But, I've also realized that although there were many negative experiences in my childhood, I also had women who raised me. These women each gave me something that helped me to hold on for the next day. For them I will be forever grateful for standing in the gap.
It has also made me look at the many women I'm surrounded by here in Uganda. I work in a slum with many women who at first appearance look to be hopeless. But, as I get to know them more, I find that they have much strength, faith and hope. They also are teaching me many things and many of them have become mothers to me on this side of the world. So, while I still struggle with many issues of my childhood, I am seeing that although it seems I am a child of no one, I am also a child of many.
2 comments:
That final sentence is powerful, sister. I'm glad I found your blog through Kimberly...wonderful thoughts in here.
Thanks! I'm still new to this blog things so sometimes feel like I'm just rambling random thoughts that are in my head.
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