In 4 Parts
I grew up in an abusive family. When I was a little kid, I would stay out as long as I could around my neighborhood and at the park to avoid getting beat by my dad. When I was 5, my dad burned me on the stove and I was put into foster care.
I spent eight years in one foster home in the San Fernando Valley. I liked it. It was actually a normal family. We had dinner together. But I'd still get sick of it sometimes because I was the middle child and would get blamed for everything. I also got into fights with my foster parents over stupid things like my room being clean or homework. Sometimes I would run away for weeks and go to a friend's house. I was used to running away. The streets were like my home.
But when I was 13, I was taken out of my foster home. Social workers said there wasn't enough food or clothes and supposedly my foster dad was beating my little brother and sisters. I was sad to leave and surprised because I didn't think those things were true. I was placed in a group home where I lived with five other foster youth.
Going to a group home after spending so long in one place was hard. I didn't like how the group home staff didn't care when I told them I was getting picked on by the other kids because I was the new kid in the house. To be continued …
VOTE – Scroll down & vote in the polls.
COMMENT – Daily insights, prayers, thanksgiving & praise.
SUBSCRIBE! –Top, right column.
INVITE – Friends and family to Subscribe!
Visit – http://www.thisbibletalksblog.blogspot.com/