You never know

   May is National Foster Care Month. My husband and I went through the process of getting licensed to be a foster home back in 2000. Since that time we have fostered more kids than we can count and have adopted 5 of them. We have had the opportunity to make a difference in the lives of children right here in our own county. Have we always been perfect? Absolutely not.
   We are human. We get worn down. We need sleep. We rarely have free time. We aren't always as pleasant and gracious as we would like to be. Some days we are just plain out exhausted. We listen to opinions from folks who have never walked our path.We kick ourselves for our inability to fix our kids. Yet we get up each morning and do it all over again praying that somehow we will connect with them.
  Most days it seems as if progress eludes us, but then we will have an encounter that reminds us why we continue to reach out. I was sitting in a waiting room and a young boy (18 or 19) struck up a conversation with me. A few moments later, he asked me if I was a foster parent. I said that I was. He then went on to say "I stayed at your house". My mind started reeling....I didn't recognize him and was trying desperately to remember him. Then it clicked.
   He was only with us for 3 days. He was 11, and had been dropped off with the torn up, filthy, sweat pants and a dirty white t-shirt that his birth mom forced him to wear as a humiliating punishment. His shoes were falling apart and he didn't have any socks on. I remember talking to him as he helped me load the dishwasher after dinner. He broke into my thoughts by saying "You made spaghetti that night. It was the best spaghetti I ever had".
   I blinked back tears at his compliment. It had been a box of pasta and a jar of Prego, but to him it was an act of kindness that he still remembered 8 years after the fact. I had no idea how much those few days impacted him. I didn't even remember his name....but he remembered everything.