“Might I,” quavered Mary, “might I have a bit of earth?”...“Earth!” he repeated. “What do you mean?”“To plant seeds in–to make things grow–to see them come alive,” Mary faltered. He gazed at her a moment and then passed his hand quickly over his eyes...“A bit of earth,” he said to himself, and Mary thought that somehow she must have reminded him of something. When he stopped and spoke to her his dark eyes looked almost soft and kind. “You can have as much earth as you want,” he said. “You remind me of some one else who loved the earth and things that grow. When you see a bit of earth you want," with something like a smile, “take it, child, and make it come alive.” “May I take it from anywhere–if it’s not wanted?”

Thursday, July 12, 2012

Spoiled Brat

Well, today our caseworker called my son a spoiled brat. Same caseworker who, each time I mention something he has done and try to discuss consequences, she says, "But you have to remember all he's been through." The same caseworker who has been interfering with my attempts to raise this child for the last 18 months.

SHE told me my child is a spoiled brat...and used this gem of information to try to convince me to take another referral so he would have a sibling and "learn a lesson".

I am so beyond furious right now.

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