A Story...

I said a stoic goodbye yesterday as she tumbled out of the minivan and onto the sidewalk, in the way that 10 year old kids do - jacket in one hand, prizes in another, left shoelace untied. Her pigails bouncing as she ran, she turned and waved again and yelled something in my direction. Bounding towards the doors of the group home where she lives, I watched her - could still feel her little hand in mine. And my eyes started to burn. I blinked rapidly and looked to the sky, mumbling something to my sister to distract myself.

We had just finished a day at Gameworks, preceded by burgers at some random restaurant nearby. If you're of the uninitiated, Gameworks is a two story building full of video games. You can win tickets for prizes (read: junk from China) and cash them in at the end of your visit. My sister, my mother, my nephew and, let's call her Tori (simply because I love that name, Victoria, and would happily name one of my own that) and I drove half an hour northwest to another Chicago suburb, where we had lunch and then spent hours playing air hockey and video games.

When I first laid eyes on Tori, my heart ached. She's got big brown eyes and she's quick to smile. She's polite and there is a sweetness to her, that little girl sweetness - I have no idea how she retained this. I give this kid credit. She's far stronger than I. I wanted to throw my arms around her and absorb all of her pain - take it all away from her, take it on for her so she could just be the little girl she's supposed to be. Not hurt or hurting.

Her story goes like this. Tori lives in the same group home/orphanage that my nephew did before coming to live with us. Tori is ten years old. Prior to the orphanage Tori lived in Southern Illinois. I don't know where exactly, and that is probably a good thing. While I tend to feel very sad and very heartbroken when I think of Tori, I also feel this volcanic rage that makes me want to do very bad things to some very deserving people - even at my own expense.

I am not a violent person. I don't usually get mad - irked, yeah. Annoyed, oh sure. But truly angry? Rarely. And acting on it? Hardly ever. However. There are certain things that make me want to change that about myself. Certain atrocities committed against animals and children that make me want to...return the favors.

I digress. Tori is adorable. She's got wavy brown hair and big brown eyes. She speaks with a little bit of - I don't know - a lisp, of sorts? It gives her a slightly babyish quality - granted, she still is a baby - but this makes her sound more like she's 5. Tori looks like every other 10 year old girl out there. There's nothing special or unique and at the same time she's is so very special and completely unique. She is beautiful. She is funny. She is smart. She, like all children, should be protected, nurtured and loved.

Tori comes from a family with a large but undetermined amount of siblings. When Tori was a baby her mother got married. Tori's father is in jail and I have no idea why. Tori's new step father, a known sex offender, took to abusing Tori right away. The calls to DCFS mounted to nearly 26 before a case worker actually went to visit their home and before any action was taken.

Tori was removed from the situation and ultimately landed in the therapeutic orphanage that my nephew was in. She was there for years as they worked on mending this little girl. One day a husband and wife show up. They're looking to foster a child with an eye to adopt. He's a professor and she's a teacher. They link up with Tori and after being vetted and going through the lengthy process, Tori goes home with them.

She lives there for months, incident free as far as I am aware. And then it all changes.

Tori is in what she's come to call her home. She's doing something, playing, I believe, and she accidentally steps on the paw of the family dog. Careless? Probably. Malicious? No way. Dog was not seriously injured. The husband and wife call the orphanage and say that Tori intentionally hurt their beloved pup. Tori tearfully insists that it was not intentional.

I believe her. I saw her with my mother's menagerie - she was kind and a little timid but thoughtful of them.

A little time goes by, and the husband and wife say that they are going camping, Tori cannot come with and they use respite care - this is provided by the orphanage during the initial years of fostering. It allows for a skilled care giver to be with the child while the foster parents are unable to be so. Given the history of many of these kids, it's the best thing for all parties.

They are supposed to return a week later. Instead, after a few days, they call the orphanage and say that they will not be picking Tori up. They do not tell her why. They do not tell her goodbye. She simply doesn't get to go back home.

Flash forward a couple of weeks. It's a windy fall Sunday and this little waif blows into my awareness. I cannot help but feel this instant love for her. I play her favorite pop band on my phone on the drive out, she bobs and sings along - making me laugh. Later, she slips her hand into mine to lead me around to the next thing she wants to do. Before we leave, she asks me to help her add her points so she can pick out her prizes.

As we are pulling up to the driveway of the orphanage she asks if there will be a next time. I immediately say yes, protocols be damned. I will see this little one again. And sooner rather than later. I watch her slip behind the walls of the orphanage. I can't imagine anyone ever wanting to harm her. All I could feel was an overwhelming desire to protect her, take her pain away, heal her, hold her close and never let go.

What kind of monster must one be to harm that sweet little thing? How horrid of a person must you be to intentionally inflict harm? How cruel and selfish can you be to not reflect upon the pain you have caused another creature? Or how about the couple who rejected her?

It's things like this that make me wish to believe in a supreme being that will equalize everything in the end. That will balance it all out, ultimately. What a comfort that would be - to think, those who harm another so coldly, so callously, only thinking about themselves - their gains, their needs - would have justice served upon them.

And even then, how would that help Tori? How would that repair any of the damage? It wouldn't. She would take no comfort in that - not really. Only those of us looking in would find that satisfying. And yet she would still be the little girl, who held my hand, who loves One Direction, whose pain is far deeper and who has a long way to go to put the pieces of herself back together....

There is no justice for Tori....