Another foster child that we had and I can remember very little of was a boy from Alaska. He was an American Indian who’s family were having difficulties.
One day, he was in trouble and mother had him sitting in the living room while she sat in the rocker rocking quietly. When my father came home from work, he saw what was happening and noticed that her knuckles were white, so he told us to all leave and make some orange juice in the kitchen.
My father then calmed her down and then went to talk with the boy. The boy wanted to understand why he was not beaten. He felt that if he was in trouble, he should be beaten. Did they not love him? My parents then told him that it was because they loved him that they did not beat him.
My mother had the experience of being spanked with willow switches that she had to pull off of the tree herself, when she began to have children, she promised herself that she would use her parents as the example as to what not to do. She did do her best and because of it, we do have love for her.
When this young boy was taken away from us and returned to his family, he ran away to came back to us. He was caught before he reached us. A second time, he ran away again. This time, he was hit by a car trying to get back to us. Our family truly loved this boy and had hoped to be able to give him the love that he had been craving while growing up.