by Marisue Alsobrook 

Dancin’ and Prancin’ Through Christmas 

“Holidays bring many memories.  For foster children, Christmas memories can be painful.  Foster parents often cringe at the upcoming holidays, as abused children can really act out during  this time of year.  I remember one Christmas, we all wanted to do something really special to help others.  We adopted a family through a local charity, and in the beginning had great fun planning gifts and food purchases.  Soon, the foster kids in our home became so territorial over what they wanted to get our holiday family, that they began to fuss and argue over every decision.” 

Family Meetings 

We had to have several family meetings to get things back in prospective, reminding them all that Christmas was a time of peace and sharing.  Somehow, arguing over what gift was best for others didn’t seem to match the theme of showing love.

Chaos
In the middle of this chaos, we got a call from child welfare, asking if we could take a young teenager just for the holidays.  This 17 year old was mildly developmentally delayed, and currently in a special care unit.  MEANING LOCKED.  He didn’t have any place to go for the holiday time as the facility was closing for 7 days. 

Can you hear the bells, sirens, and horns blaring inside my head, screaming “Danger!  Danger!  You’ve got enough to do!  Don’t spoil your own holiday.  Danger! Danger!”  No?  Well, evidently I couldn’t hear them either, however I did hear myself saying “Sure, what’s one more child?”

Maintaining Status Quo 

No status quo?  What’s another child?  I was about to find out.  In came Jack.  He arrived with a cigarette in his mouth, (apparently at the locked facility they earn illegal cigarettes with good behavior. Figure that one out if you can.  I guess I missed that parenting book.)  So, he’s got the cigarette hanging out of his mouth, a backpack on his back, and a stereo headset glued to his ears.   Walking through the front door at a speed of 60 miles an hour, he promptly sat down in my husband’s easy chair, and broke into a song that lasted for 7 days.  Apparently, the song never made it to the hit charts because I haven’t heard it since. 

Sharing the Holidays 

Believe me, Jack gave it more publicity than it deserved.  For 7 days.  Solid.  Rocking and singing.  Good ol’ rockin’-singin’-smokin’-on the-porch, Jack.   At meals, he talked until you wished he’d go back to the chair, put on the dreaded headset and lift up his voice.  He was not very aware of his environment, as he never caught on that the rest of us were also trying to talk.  He just sang, talked, smoked and rocked.

Christmas Day 

Everything else about that Christmas fades from memory.    Somehow we finished our shopping, delivered the argued over presents to our adopted family, who actually looked happier than we were at the moment.  We put the big meal together, had come up with a couple of last minute gifts for our new guest, and opened up our presents as fast as we could.  Then, our kids quickly disappeared to their rooms and shut the door, while Lynn and I hung around Jack, trying to make conversation. 

The Long Goodbye 

2 days later, Jack went back to his life.  As he was leaving, he looked us in the eye for the first time and said almost tearfully “Thanks,  This is the best Christmas I ever had.”  He actually meant it.  We watched him drive off with his case worker.  Closing the door, we were silent, looking at each other through blurry eyes.

My kids said we were crying in relief.  But we all knew were crying for Jack.  It somehow didn’t seem right that our worst Christmas had been Jack’s best.  

We all grew up some that day.  I know each of us went to bed a little more grateful for our own life.

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