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I Don t Know Anything About Me.

That s what he finally choked out:

I don t know anything about me.

At Trinity Church, elementary-aged kids are checked into Kidsplace each week by their parents, using an electronic key fob like the one above; or, if that s misplaced, they can use touch screen computers to enter their phone number.

One Sunday morning recently, I saw a little boy standing sheepishly near the entrance. He didn t have an adult with him, so I went over to help him out.  I asked if he had ever been to Kidsplace before.  He looked mildy panicked at the question. He  stammered   Umm maybe?  I think I ve been here once?  I m not sure. I can t remember.  Hmm.  Okay.  I walked him over to the touch screens and explained that if he had ever visited, his phone number would be in the system and we could get him all set with a name tag. Panic registered on his face once again.  He looked down at the floor, and I thought maybe he was embarrassed because didn t know his phone number.  No big deal.  I started to explain that it was no problem; we d just manually enter his name and grade and print up a name tag.  No sweat! But before I could explain he looked up and with a sigh of resignation quietly said,

I m a foster kid.  I don t know anything about me.
Now on a cognitive level, I knew he meant that he didn t know his  information. He didn t know his address or phone number, and couldn t remember if Trinity was one of the many churches he had visited.  But that statement I don t know anything about me it broke my heart for him.  I don t know who I am.  I don t know if I m valuable.  I don t know if I have a family who will love me forever.  I don t know if I m merely being tolerated.  I don t know anything about me.  The worries of an orphan s heart, on display before me.

Panic. Embarrassment. Resignation.  These were the emotions he registered within a 2 minute span because he didn t know who he was.  And sadly, some of those emotions feel all too familiar to me and to the girlfriends I love:  Panic over the future.  Embarrassment over our looks.  Resignation that we will never change.  Too many of our days are filled with these emotions because  we don t know who we are.  We re living like orphans, when we are daughters!  Not one of us is fatherless.  Not one doesn t belong.


I am a mom of three and wife of one. I am livin' the good life as a stay-at-home mom, and also work part time as a Speech-Language Pathologist. I really loathe doing laundry, and at almost all times have hampers full of clothing in various states of cleanliness overtaking our home. Our three kids are incredible and also sometimes stinky. I talk about them a lot here. Sometimes I don't because they say "Mom. You are not allowed to blog about that." And they have plenty of dirt on me so I comply.

1 Comment

  1. Kelly · March 11, 2011

    SO well written, Starr! Beautiful. Thank you!