Imagine if you were living in a small 1 bedroom apartment, one that fell just within your budget. Termites filled the walls. A/C (if there was one) either leaked or squeaked when used. Electricity flicked off and on, and the 80’s wallpaper only covered half the wall. A full bath about the size of a “normal” half and a kitchen that had a foot of countertop space, with worn down wooden cabinets and a dorm sized fridge. You’re taken from your apartment building without previous notice and driven to the nearby courthouse, without any idea why, leaving all of your (few) possessions at your previous home. At the court they tell you that you’re moving into a larger house with many roommates, like a sorority/fraternity home.
There’s more than one bathroom that are both double the size of your previous one, with a shower AND a bathtub. The kitchen is big enough so that three people can use it at once. The walls are freshly painted with easily accessible, functioning outlets. Although it is far greater than your previous living arrangements, you’re still out of your comfort zone. You’re put into a new position, against your will, and told to make do with what you’re given. Over a couple of weeks or months, you get more comfortable with your surroundings and realize the protection, care, and comforts of the new “sorority home” are far greater, healthier, safer, and will provide you with many more opportunities than that affordable apartment room. It is better, but for some it may never feel truly like home. That’s the feeling each of our kids have gone through (or are currently going through) since entering the gates of Casa Shalom.
Each of their previous home lives are different from the next, but they are their own normal for each of the kids. Some see it as normal to walk alone on the streets at midnight begging for their only meal for the day. Others think normal is to see mom and/or dad passed out in the next room due to drug/alcohol abuse. Normal, for some, is being taken advantage of by a guardian, whether it be working out in the field at 4 years old, beaten, abused in the bedroom, or to get a job to provide finances for the guardian’s habits. Others see it as normal, or even lucky, to get one meal a day, own a toothbrush, or a mattress (that may or may not be shared with 5+ other family members). It all feels normal. They don’t know any difference and have accepted the normal as what they are familiar with.
So when a government worker takes a child from their cardboard box or removes them from their mother’s tight grip, they are scared. Nervous. Shy. Emotional. Most of the time, they will come as a sibling group, but on occasion do they come alone. They sit all day in court, just wondering what is to come. They’re driven to our front gate, arriving usually between 6:30 and 9:00 pm, are given a hot meal while answering questions from our staff, are showered, and sent to their new home, filled with friends of their age/gender. There’s running water, electricity, a new toothbrush, dishes, a roof, a mattress, extra blankets/towels, and new clothes for them to claim as their own, but they are still in a new environment, now separated from their siblings. It’s uncomfortable. It’s not their normal.
They are now learning how to be a kid, how to gain weight lost from malnutrition, how to live in a house with their own bed, a solid roof, lights, and running water. They are to let go of the responsibility to care for their younger siblings, find money to put food on the table, or watch for danger outside their house. Most are learning to accept and respond to real love and care for the first time.
Although they are taken into a much safer, healthier, loving, caring environment, it’s not their norm. They’re not used to it and are slightly uncomfortable and feel out of place the first few weeks at their new home. They are learning the best they can to accept a new normal.
Our goal as a team of cooks, psychologists, volunteers, teachers, doctors, dentists, secretaries, maintenance workers, and house parents is to change their idea of normal. We take the time sit with them at lunch, play soccer, hot wheels, or barbies with them, talk with them, get to know them a little better, and prove to them that we are standing with them and for them in anything they do. It’s not just a temporary stay (ranging between a few days and 20+ years), it’s a new family member to take under our wings and guide them into their new view of normal.
We appreciate all the prayers. Pray for the team of Casa Shalom, that we can best share the love of Christ with them, in helping them feel comfortable under our care, and that we can help them recover from their previous idea of “normal”, whatever that may include. Pray for each child that enters into the gates. Pray they start to understand the joy of childhood, how to let go of things no longer under their responsibility, for growth despite their past home life, and that they would come to know how much we love and care for them during (and after) their time in Casa Shalom, may it be a week or 2 decades. Pray that we can show them a new normal and that they would be quick to take it as their own.
(Since the pictures are pretty hard to take in when the kids first come to Casa Shalom, enjoy these photos of our Independence day celebration last week!)
(har)Perseverance on a mission 