Bravery. That’s a big word. The quality that allows the spirit to survive. I watched a video of a very young child saying you can be brave too. I don’t think we can understand what true bravery is unless we are in the positions the kids in Foster find themselves in daily.
Just the bravery to start the day, sometimes not knowing where you and your garbage bag of clothes and such will sleep the next night. You may or may not get fed. You may know that you will be physically abused and have to take it. You carry the knowledge that the people who brought you into the world couldn’t or didn’t care for you like all babies deserve.
Then I compare it to the bravery it takes to learn this entire process from square one and commit to the KINDRED projects. It’s hard for me to think about this stuff, I am very empathic. It requires a type of Reiki I suppose is the closest analogy to filter the trauma out. Otherwise my passion rises to anger and fight or flight. I relive the trauma of the children, or I used to. The focus required to be present precludes me using my imagination for anything other than forward motion.
What moment forced you to find your bravery? Your true, iron shield bravery? Can you imagine the bravery these kids must summon to survive each day being told with reinforcement that they are unloved and unwanted? That your life at best will be a dead end job and barely scraping by. It breaks my heart.
I bow to these young warriors and pray they keep holding on. They inspire me to be a warrior for them. To go out and do things that scare me. To be brave. Even when I’m terrified, they give me strength. I only hope I can do their bravery justice.

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