The Power Of Love - Chapter 2

Welcome back to YankeeBurrowCreations Storytime. Today we meet Hope in "The Power Of Love". When you're done reading, click on the picture links to see what cool handmade items I found to accompany my story, that are also available for purchase.

The Power of Love - Chapter 2



white flower hair clip

Hi. My name is Hope. It hasn't always been Hope, but that is the name my Mom and Dad gave me when they adopted me. You see, I was born with a different name, Mara. It means bitter and from the fragments of my life that I do remember, my childhood was bitter. I was one of many children born to a drug addict. I remember going to bed hungry most nights, and men just coming and going into my mother's bedroom. Sometimes the men would be nice and bring me treats, and sometimes the men would hit me and push me out the front door and then lock it. When that happened I would huddle under the porch with my brothers and sisters and listen to the sounds of yelling, and crying, and laughing, coming from inside the house. Yet, despite the way my life was, the day all of us children were taken away, was the scariest day of my life.



Hansel and Gretal's home

The woman from the police department took me away from my brothers and sisters and brought me to this house. It was a beautiful house, with green grass, a swing hanging from the tree, and a man and woman standing on the front porch. They told me that I would be living there now. But no-one would tell me where my sisters and brothers went, or how long I would have to stay here. I was so scared that I did not talk to anyone for weeks. And I refused to eat any food offered to me, but after bedtime, in the dark, I would sneak into the kitchen and eat anything I could reach. After several months there, I started to relax, and my old life started to fade away. Yet, in all my life, the fear never really went away.





waiting room chairs

Now here I sit, almost 20 years later, still afraid, but hopeful, finally hopeful. And waiting. Waiting at the airport for my mom, Faith. It's been just over 2 years since I left home. Looking for who knows what. All I knew is that something was missing. I turn and look at the woman sitting next to me. If I was nervous, she was a wreck. Her name is Grace. She's my birth mother.

Thank you for joining me on this journey. And remember, every item I have shared as part of my story is available for purchase, just click on the links below the pictures. And come back next week and meet Grace.


Be blessed,
Debbi
http://about.me/yankeeburrowcreations

The Power of Love - Chapter 1

Welcome back to YankeeBurrowCreations Storytime. Grab a drink, pull up a chair, and let's see where my imagination takes us today. When you're done reading, click on the picture links to see what cool handmade items I found to accompany my story, that are also available for purchase.

The Power of Love - chapter 1



window view

I sit quietly, staring out the window, seeing, yet not seeing. I am heading to a meeting, a place, where I don't want to go. My chest hurts, my heart hurts. I am not ready for this, but then again, I would probably never be ready for this. My name is Faith, and my story is not an easy one. But stories of the heart never really are easy, are they? You see, I have a daughter, one I love with all my heart, but she is not "really" my daughter, she was born to another woman who could not love her, so my Father gave her to me to love. If I knew then the pain I would have endured these past years, would I still have adopted? I'm not so sure.



matching hats

Hope came to us when she was only 5, scared and angry, and wanting so desperately to belong. And I was thrilled to be a mom again, even after so many years. Foolishly I thought to myself, I've already raised children, I can do this again. I wish there had been a manual, because Hope was unlike any of my other children. On the outside, a precious beautiful little girl, with a dimple in her one cheek, and a giggle that made everyone around her giggle too. I loved to just pick her up and snuggle with her, but she never did. After a moment she would hit me, or elbow me, or kick me, then jump off my lap. The pain of her abuse, and the secrets of her past, she kept tightly sealed inside. But only for so long, then came the explosions! Anger, fear, hate, spewing forth at the slightest provocation. How could I help her? Did I help her? All I know is I loved her.



love forever sign

I rest my forehead against the cool window and sigh. Several years have past since those days, some good, some not so good. But we muddled through, and found some semblance of a relationship. Celebrated all the milestones together, birthdays, holidays, graduation. Then she left, not off to college, but off to "find herself". I did not understand then, and I still don't understand. But I hugged her, prayed for her, and let her go. There have been a few phone calls and letters over the past 2 years, but the last phone call was different. Hope's voice was different, lighter somehow. So here I sit, in a plane, flying towards my daughter. What is my Father up to now, I wonder? I guess I'll find out soon enough.

Thank you for joining me on this journey. And remember, every item I have shared as part of my story is available for purchase, just click on the links below the pictures. And come back next week and meet Hope.

Be blessed,

Debbi