HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY

I am the owner of this women in business community. I am a foster mom. I'm almost 53 years old and 2 years ago I adopted one of my foster baby girls. I will be 68 years old when she graduates from high school. My biological daughter gave me a grandson almost 2 years ago so "me, the mom" and "my daughter, the mom," are raising our wonderful children together.

My biological daughter is a foster mom to two teenage boys, in addition to a stepson and her biological son, "my grandson." Being a "mom" has extended to my women in business community as a list mom, as well as being mom to my own children, step-children, foster children, and kids who find themselves without a home after leaving fostercare.

I have found myself being a "mom" to my aging mother, and a "mom-caregiver" to my mother's sister who has MS for a period of 4 years, until she had to have more intensive care in a nursing home. The reason I'm writing this mother's day message is to share with you the necessity for more foster moms and dads.

My house is full to its licensed capacity yet I receive telephone calls daily asking when I will have another opening. My husband and I have purchased a small cottage and added room for 2 more boys...and still, there are more needing homes.

These children are in temporary shelters across our nation, waiting for a home with love and compassion. As you read the poem on the right side, look deep into your heart and find another bedroom for just one child. Happy Mother's Day, Deb Nyberg

SARAH

My name is Sarah
I am but three,
My eyes are swollen
I cannot see,
I must be stupid,
I must be bad,
What else could have made
my daddy so mad?
I wish I were better
I wish I weren't ugly,
Then maybe my mommy
Would still want to hug me.


I can't speak at all
I can't do a wrong
Or else I'm locked up
All the day long.
When I awake I'm all alone.
The house is dark
My folks aren't home.
When my mommy does come,
I'll try and be nice,
So maybe I'll get
just one whipping
tonight.


Don't make a sound!
I just heard a car
My daddy is back
From Charlie's Bar.
I hear him curse
My name he calls
I press myself
Against the wall.
I try to hide
From his evil eyes


I'm so afraid now
I'm starting to cry.
He finds me weeping
He shouts ugly words,
He says its my fault
That he suffers at work.
He slaps me and hits me
And yells at me more
I finally get free
And I run for the door.


He's already locked it
And I start to bawl
He takes me and throws me
Against the hard wall
I fall to the floor
With my bones nearly broken
And my dad continues
With more bad words spoken....


"I'm sorry!" I scream
But it's now much too late
His face has been twisted
Into unimaginable hate.


The hurt and the pain
Again and again
Oh please God, have mercy!
Oh please let it end!
And he finally stops
And heads for the door
While I lay there motionless
Sprawled on the floor.

My name is Sarah
And I am but three
Tonight my daddy
Murdered me.

There are thousands of kids out there just like Sarah.

YOU CAN HELP! BECOME A FOSTER MOM!
Call a local Foster Parent Agency
in your hometown today.