From the Children

 
(Due to the file size this had to be scanned as two pieces but in reality it is one piece.  It was written by a young girl soon after placement with the Fosters' Home for Children.)

THE NOTE READS…

Why Me?
What did I do
that is so bad
for me to be hurt
this many times?
Why does everyone keep hurtting me for?  How cume  (come)
Everyone using me?
--------  How cume (come)
Everyone say they cair (care), but huts (hurts)
Me evrytime they get a chanse (chanse)?
How cume (come) I can't trust eneyone (anyone) ?
What is rong (wrong) with me? Why douse (does)
It hurt so dad (bad)?

When I think of the Foster Home,
I think of somewhere that I
am safe and some where I
know I won't be hurt. I also
think of somewhere I can have
fun. The foster home is not a
very bad place to be, I think
of my loving and caring
house parents, John and Mary-
Kay, I am thankful because
at this foster home I get
to be together with my sis-
ters unlike the other 7 I have
been to in my life.

God
March 9, 1998

Have you ever felt alone?
like no one is around you
Have you ever been scared?
and feel like there is no where to hide.
Have you felt like no one cares
and no body is your friend.
Have you felt so hurt inside
like your heart was being ripped out.

But did you know that you do have a
friend that can be there when you
are alone, scared, hurt and feel like
no one cares.

Just look up to the sky and he is there
Just speak out his name and he will answer.

By
Rosalyn

Remember
April 14, 1997

Sitting on my window sill
Looking down
Watching the cars roll by
I think back to my past
And begin to cry
The younger years of my life
Were good and pure
--  Innocent --
I was Innocent and I remember
Exactly when I lost my soul

I remember
The pain of my loss
They roused me
From my slumber
And whispered the news to me
And though my heart broke
I did not weep
Not yet
Not then
But now after many
Oh god so many losses.

A Sweet Wind And A Perfect Tree

A Blue Day, A Gray Day,
That's The Day He Was On His Way,

The Wind, Oh My Sweet Wind.

There Is A Tree, A Perfect Oak Tree,
And There We Sit Just He And Me,
I Look Across The Field And See,
A Horse, A Barn, And Another Tree.

Around The Tree Where He Lay,
Sits a Flower Garden Filled With Plush Red Roses,
And Wild Flowers Just Like Me.

I Feel The Wind, I Smell The Green Grass,
The Warm Of The Summer, The Cold Touch Of Death,
The Beautiful Songs Of Robins I Hear,
But Still I Can Find No Cheer.

A Small White Terrier I Can Hear,
Like An Angel Wispering In My Ear,
Fresh Cut Grass, A Clear Blue Pond,
If Really Listening Can Hear,
"I Love You, And I Miss You,
I Will Always Care,
If You Ever Need Me,
I Am Always There."
These Words Are Carried On The Wind, Oh My Sweet Wind.

I See Robins So Free,
And Wonder Is His Soul Really Free.
I See Him, He See Me,
Everytime I Look At That Perfect Tree,
And Then That  Sweet Wind Blows,
It Blows Right At Me.

Oh I Wish I Could See His Face,
When The Wind Takes Me To That Place,
Where It's He And Me And A Perfect Tree,
And Now I Our Souls Are Free.