Chapter 9
Life Goes on
As I entered the Evaluation Home a week later Nutmeg ran to greet me. “Helen, come, come, look ... my room is done. My room is done!” She was obviously excited and happy, as she grabbed my hand and pulled me down the hall to see her “new” room.
“Isn’t it beee-ooo-tiful?” Nutmeg jumped up and down excitedly. “It’s my fairy princess room – it is – just the way I always wanted it.”
I saw, for the first time, a normal excited, happy little girl, excited about her very own space in the world. The room was painted a lovely soft light blue, even on the ceiling, where white puffy clouds had been painted as though wafting in the breezes high in the sky. The house parents had done a wonderful job! The bed had been transformed with a canopy of sheer white curtains surrounding it, providing a special space for a little princess to sleep in the mounds of quilt where birds and flowers were appliquéd. And across the room, painted on the wall was a mural of fairies dancing in the forest of blue and green and sunlight. “What a lucky little girl you are,” I said, “to have such a beautiful room of your very own.”
“I helped, too,” Nutmeg said excitedly. “I helped paint the fairies and the trees. And look, I have baskets where I can put things, and a cage for the lovebird we’re going to get. Mom Marci says I have to earn it, first, though. I can do extra chores and stuff and get enough in three weeks to buy the lovebird. I already picked it out and they are keeping it for me at Pet Haven. When I bring it home, it’s gonna be all my ‘sponsibility ..Mom Marci said if I forget to clean her cage or feed her just once, I have to take her back. I won’t forget – not never,” she said solemnly. Nutmeg was full of joy and her smiles and excitement were contagious. I gave her a big hug, and she eagerly accepted it. This was a first. A happy child without anger or hostility sharing a joyful hug! Progress.
Children’s Garden was one of those rare places where “treatment” involved helping a child learn to feel worthy and uniquely OK in the world through many various avenues. Many if not most of our children had been sadly neglected, had worn shoes too small for too long, had ill fitting hand-me-downs for clothes, and had shared a room and often a bed with several other children and sometimes adults. Having a room of their own, decorated the way THEY wanted it, their own clothes that fit and were comfortable, special toys or objects they valued, and an allowance they earned each week sent powerful and important messages about how important they were to the Children’s Garden family.
I had been invited to stay for dinner before our weekly “family meets” at the Evaluation Home. These meetings were always interesting and a very special way to collect the important data we needed to better know, understand and eventually place our children in long term care, whether it be a long term foster placement or adoption. The house parents, Marci and Ben, were skilled in bringing up issues each child had presented during the week, and the children were engaged in a family group process to help solve whatever problems had not already been resolved. This process gave each child a chance to listen to others and themselves, and to work on problem solving with their peers, guided by skilled adult caregivers. It also gave us an opportunity to see how well our interventions had helped them to grow and to learn problem solving skills, whether interpersonal or life skills.
This evening’s dinner was full of joy and excitement as the children shared their week at school and what they were learning about geography and reading about new places in the world. There was the occasional “tattle” which was quickly stopped by the house parents: “Let’s wait for that till our meeting, please.” After dinner three of the children cleared the table, while the other three rinsed the dishes and put them in the dishwasher. Then each child went to the refrigerator and got a drink of iced water and sat around the large dining room table.
Once Marci, Ben and I had joined them, Marty raised his hand. Marci acknowledged him and he began to speak: “We all want to know why Nutmeg is going to get a pet of her own, when we all have to share Tiger?” (Tiger was the house cat.)
Ben spoke then: “Well Marty and all, this is an agreement between Marci and I and Nutmeg. First of all, she is not being given the lovebird: she has to earn it. And that will take a lot of hard work and good behavior on her part. Secondly, you all have received something special that you had to earn -- you just have not asked for a pet. Third, Nutmeg understands that when she leaves Children’s Garden, if she goes where she cannot take her lovebird, it will then become a house bird, just as Tiger once was a pet and became a house cat.”
Nutmeg’s hand shot into the air and she could hardly wait to be called upon. “Besides, Marty, I still have to feed the cat when it’s my turn. And I might not even be able to get this bird unless I AWWWWFULLLY good.” She looked directly at Marty with very large deep brown eyes.
“Uh, well, OK, then , if you still have to feed Tiger, too,” replied Marty in a rather shy voice. Marty, we knew, hated taking his turn to feed the cat one of every six weeks. “Can I come in your room and pet the bird?” he asked.
“Sure, y’all can,” exclaimed Nutmeg.
Ben asked the group: “Are there any grumbles this week? Does anybody need help getting unstuck?” Grumbles were problems or bad feelings about other children or house parents or teachers which the children had not been able to resolve. These children often harbored ill feelings and kept them for a long time. That was framed as “being stuck” in our intervention strategies, and children were taught to ask for help in overcoming “stuck” bad feelings.
There were indeed a few grumbles and some left over feelings, all of which were processed within the next hour. Then the children were allowed to raid the cookie jar and have a glass of milk before watching their favorite half hour of TV, and off to baths, and bedtime stories.
Nutmeg came over to me quietly and pleaded softly: “Miss Helen, will you read me a story if I quick get my bath and get into bed? Will you tell me a story about a fairy princess?” How could I refuse?