My childhood

I was taken away from my parents at the age of two. I was in 2-3 foster homes before I came to the Snyders. When I came there, the social worker told them that I was retarded and that this was a temporary stay. I was mute. I did not make a sound. The first day I was there, I was very curious and checked around the house and I fell down the stairs and bumped my head on the basement door. No sound came from my lips, just tears rolling down my cheeks. My foster mother held me and comforted me. Two weeks later, she gave me a bath and started washing my hair and soap got into my eyes. I started to cry and then my foster mom picked me up, soap and all, and hugged me crying tears of joy because I made my first sound in that home. She observed my ways and she refused to believe that I was retarded. She fought the probate court system and was persistent telling them I was not what they claimed me to be. The probate system finally agreed to let my foster mom take me to three doctors for three opinions. The first two said that there was nothing that they could do for me (This was in 1967 and knew little about my condition). Finally the 3rd doctor made an observation. I was playing with a toy and had total focus on it. I remembered the doctor taking a bell out of a drawer. They said that when he rang it, I didn't' look up. And he said, "I think she is deaf". My foster mother did not think so, because she said that I would sit up straight in my crib when I heard a whistle through the house that was created by a wind outside. They gave me a hearing test. They put the headphones on and I was concentrating on toys on the table. When they turned up a sound, my foster mom said that my eyes grew big like saucers like I was hearing for the first time. They gave me hearing aids and my world change. My foster mother took me and traveled 20 miles each way to a special school Monday through Friday for a year. That's where I learned to talk and socialize. They said I may have had autism symptoms. I started to call my foster mother and father "Grandma" and "Grandpa" because she had grandchildren living next door and I heard them call them by those names.

The Snyders put me in Kindergarten. I lost my hearing aids and found out that I didn't need them anymore. I do have a slight hearing loss in my left ear and do have trouble with hearing with background noises and I learned to read lips combined with the voice, but hearing aids was not necessary. I guess I was shutting out the world when I first came to the Snyders and was just easier that way, and therefore, didn't learn to talk until I went to that special school. In kindergarten, I did have trouble listening to rules and kept hiding under tables. They put me on ratlin in first grade and again my life changed. I was the first one to read since I was a year older in my class and was so ready. I took speech therapy for seven years. I had trouble making friends, but as the years went by into middle and high school, it got better and better. My foster mother was very proactive in my life. She signed me for everything, such as, in baton and ballet lessons, gymnastics, 4-H, dog obedience school for my dog, flute, band camp, week-long camps, organ lessons and recitals, swimming lessons, etc. She took me with her to nursing homes where she did volunteer work in crafts. I would help either be sitting in the old ladies' laps or be helping in their crafts.

After high school, I went to college and got my secretarial degree. She died in the second year of college from breast cancer. I am married now for 15 years and have two children. People look at me today and saw how far I have come. It was because of my foster's mom persistent. She was my best friend. She loved me unconditionally and accepted my worse faults. She taught me the ways of God and compassion for other people. I miss her very much. I carry her in my heart. She reminds me to pray, to be a good wife and mother (which is very challenging at times), and to accept people where they are. She made me who I am today.

I would to tell another part of my life that is difficult for me to discuss but was a part of my life. My foster father and I had a difficult time. I found out years later that he resented me being there because he didn't want me long term, but my grandma was persistent. So I felt I was in his way a lot. At the age of 16, I got into an argument with Grandma and was very determine to have my way and Grandpa lost his temper. He got up from his chair and slept me across my face continually and it took Grandma to stop the continuously slapping. I stood there stunned for a moment and I ran outside in the dark. I was ashamed of myself. I took the blame on myself for Grandpa's temper. I knew he had a heart condition and I didn't want to be responsible for a possible heart attack. I went back in the house a little while later and I called my social worker the next morning telling her what had happened. I told that I wanted to go to another home but wanted to stay in the same town so I can stay near the Snyyers and my school friends. There was no home available. After much discussion where to place me, they presented me a home that was three hours away. I was very much against it. But when I visited a single woman in her 40's who sent her two adopted daughters to a Christian school, I was very taken by the school and church. They were asking me to please come and be a part of them. I was drawn by their wanting me to be there so I agreed to live with D.B. In order for me to move to her home, I had to agree to let her adopt me. I had to go through an emotional process of terminating my mother's rights and the emotional disagreement from my six siblings and relatives. I kept telling them that it was only a piece of paper. But little did I knew what kind of home that I would be living in. My new foster mother, after a month, showed me a different side to her. She became controlling, verbally and emotionally hurtful. The two daughters had their own emotional baggage from their past. I saw my foster mother slapping them on the face and head when they talked back. I decided with all my will power that I was not going to talk back to her every time we disagreed. I told myself that I will never get slapped by her because she was not my mother. (So the adoption never took place, but she kept me anyway) I never got slapped by her in the three years I lived there. She was very critical and hardly praised us. She was rigid and a perfectionist. My Christian school and friends was my way out. I have tried to report her twice. The new social worker did not believe me that it was that bad. I took my two sisters to my youth pastor and his answer was to "obey" no matter what the cost. My self-esteem plummetted. I bottled a lot of emotions inside because I was not allow to express them without the fear of being slapped. I went to my room countless times and beat my pillow saying "I hate you! I hate you!" but then melt down to tears and ask God to help me to get through and to forgive her. When she dropped me at College in Tennessee, 14 hours away, and drove away, I danced and danced and laughed in my dorm room. I kept saying, "I'm free! I'm free!" I felt like I can start living again, but had to go through a process of recovering my self-esteem. It's amazing how three years of damaged can affect for a life time. I feel like I have two personalities. I can be like Grandma's compassionate, caring attitude but other times, I can be controlling and critical. I had feelings of rage. I hate it. At this present time, I am attended Life Skills that will help to break down the causes of my anger and rage, and shame and guilt. Life Skills is a Christian organization. They present truths from the Word of God telling me who I am in Christ and how that God loves me unconditionally and can heal me from my past.

In conclusion, I understand the difference between two kinds of love. One is unconditional and the other is not. We must be very careful with our children and other children. I have found that I have less tolerance for other people's kids and I have to keep myself in check when I babysit. Sometimes I have feelings of rage toward children that are not my own. I hate it. I feel helpless and ashamed. I am so very glad that I have not felt that way to my own flesh and blood. However, I have been critical and rigid toward my children. Through Life Skills, I am learning to overcome and look forward to respect my children and other children with the respect they deserve. The generation cycle can be broken and it will begin with me.