I was out to lunch with my director after a very long day of set painting, and I she said I must have so many stories working here. And wanted to know if I ever wrote them down. Of course, I blog. Up until now I've been hesitant to put some of them on here, confidentiality and all that, but here's one.
We had a girl working for us. She'd worked before I got here, left on maternity leave, then came back. She'd had several children taken away by the state. Drug use. This pregnancy she kept clean all the way through and had a beautiful, healthy baby. Then she came back to work. Her behavior was erratic. Finally, after almost a month, the story came out. She was living with a man, the child's father, also a drug pusher, He had begun to beat her up. She'd gone back on drugs. She got tested at work, but they were too dumb to monitor her and she'd got someone else to take the test for her. Because she'd come for help she was bundled off with her baby and anything we could give her, since she had to run with the clothes on her back. She's presumably safe now, sheltered at an agency, getting back on her feet. Being taken care of. And we had to watch our backs for a while in case the child's father came by to find her. He called looking for her, but I never saw him.
Another girl came into the store with my mother. She had fresh bruises from her last beating. She'd been in foster care. They took to hammering away at her at the slightest provocation. She left and ran with nothing but what she was wearing. Mom brought her to the store to outfit her with clothes and school supplies. Now she's living in a group home trying to start over.
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