All my life, I am told “you are such a nice person”, “you are such a sweet person”, “If I was you, I would have been so mean”, and “I could not have done that, but you are too nice.” I sit and pensively think about why do I tend to forgive so easily.

Here is a little back story:

My mother was a teenager when she gave birth to me. She did not have a mom because her mother died when she was a small girl. She was raised by her father and he had no idea how to raise a young lady. Both my mother and I lived in foster . It was reported that after she gave birth to me, the home of her father was deemed unsafe for a baby. Can you imagine, how this teenage mother must have felt? Can you imagine being told the only home that supposedly was good enough for a little girl, was no longer good enough for her new born baby?


We lived in one foster home after another, because she was so broken on the inside that she defied authority. To make her statement boldly, she would run away with me in tow. I am sure it was painful for the foster parents to see her angered so easily in which she would leave, but I think the most pain came from them not knowing where she was going and taking me with her. Did she know what was best for the both of us? I am certain she did not. A child herself. Her innocence gone forever, and who did she have as an example to be a mother? Nobody.

Eventually, my mom, would leave me and never returned…..Yes now its just me living in foster homes. Most people have photos of their first birthday or some kind of memento of their childhood. It tells the story of things that they were too young to remember. My memento is always worn in my heart. It’s the feeling of abandonment when my mom left me and knowing that my father never wanted anything to do with me. Yes, my father, a man who had other plans that never included me.


I use to daydream about the man I thought was my father. I assumed he had no idea I existed, but once he did, he would run to save me and love me forever. No, from what I am told, he was much older than my mom. He had other plans. He was very intelligent, well-spoken, very attractive, athletic and a high school graduate. Mom never graduated.

I can recall, there were moments living in foster care where I would pray for a family. I knew what I wanted, I just didn’t know how to articulate it well. I wanted parents who loved me unconditionally.I wanted siblings. I wanted my biological parents, but that was no longer an option. As I sit here typing the most personal blog, I think…I had no idea what Christmas was, Easter(Passover), Thanksgiving etc…I had no idea because in the home where I dwell, we didn’t celebrate those things.

Believe it or not, there is not a day that goes by, that I don’t feel the pain and void that my parents caused(my memento), however, I forgive them. Those were the two individuals who caused the greatest amount of pain in my life, yet I forgive them and I have some understanding about their choices. I guess, if I can forgive them..why would I not forgive others who have done much less to me. I will continue another blog later about my life in a foster home at another time.


Sometimes the most loving thing a person can do for another person, is to let them go when they know that they are not good for them. If you hold on to an individual and constantly hurt them….how can you say that is love. Your character is at stake with every heart you break.—noshal