Friday, November 12, 2004

The bars on the window seem so cold and the foggy glass barely lets in any light.
The only breeze coming through here is that of the children as they run past the office doors.
Not much goes on here during the day. The older children are at school, most of the moms work, and the other kids spend most of their time upstairs.
When I'm in at 8:30am, I sit here and think, read, write, but mainly just listen.
When the kids get home and the moms come out it gets pretty busy.
The moms don't like to talk to us child/youth counsellors much, maybe they think we'll start asking the kid questions, maybe they have something to hide, whatever it is, it's nice when one of them decides to talk to us.

"he gets out of jail tomorrow you know"

"I've heard, how do you feel about that?"

"my kids miss him, they haven't been saying much"

"are the kids aware of why you had to leave?"

"they get to have friends now, thats all they know"

"have friends?"

"ya they've never had any, never really left the house, they weren't allowed to talk much either"

"he was afraid they'd tell someone?"

"I think so, I think they're still scared to talk"

"tell me what it was like a day in your house..."

::she looks relieved::

It only takes a few minutes to let someone vent. Hard when you don't know what they'll say, or what you can say to help them through it.
Truth is that sometimes you don't have to say anything, just listen.
When I first started counselling class I was so nervous. They taught us the proper way to say hello, the proper way to sit, and how to push all of your own personal feelings away and not judge.
Intimidating is not even the word for it, someone would eventually sit infront of me with their life in pieces expecting me to fix it. This day hasn't come yet, probably because I look so young...if i were in trouble, some young girl is not exactly the first person i would turn to.
The children turn to me though, they tell me all their darkest secrets, the ones that no one else knows. Stories of being scared, being hurt, seeing their family get hurt. They talk so freely, some of them. Like they don't really know the magnitude of their words, like it happened to someone else.
A lady is sitting outside the office with her daughter right now, maybe she needs to talk...


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