Christmas last year sucked because my ex-husband and I had just separated and my then five year old disabled little boy was locked up in a hospital for Christmas and New Year and I didn’t know if and when I would ever get him back. I worked very hard this past year to get my other son back, and there were times when I didn’t think I would ever make it. I didn’t have access to my bipolar medicine because I lost insurance and I couldn’t afford the cash prices, I was financially instable to the point of selling off things I owned that were special to me just so that I could keep the water on to the house, and I felt so desperate and stressed out all the time because my house payments were two months behind and all my other bills were constantly behind. My car needed and still needs work, and I was afraid that at any given time I’d suddenly be without transportation.

I had to do a ton of repairs to my home that I could not afford and was given help for some of them. People were good to me and did things for me beyond my hopes. The plumber donated the labor for free and only charged for parts and a disability organization paid for the parts. Things like this happened all year but I was too stressed and overwhelmed to rest. I went from crisis to crisis to crisis. When one problem finally got solved another one appeared while I was still getting the last one solved. If I could choose any word to describe the past year it would be desperation. I bought my children the things that I needed and meanwhile I went without soap, shampoo and underwear so that my kids would be clothed and fed.

In November, everything happened. I got my US citizenship, I finished my Bachelor of Arts with honors, I got custody of my son back, and I changed churches in an effort to revive my faith. Once I had accomplished everything the depression and sadness hit me because I had been so busy getting stuff done that I hadn’t stopped to process what had happened to me, and how I felt about it, and I hadn’t had time to grieve my losses because life was requiring me to suck it up and be responsible and sort my mess out.

About six weeks ago I learned that a church group was wanting to adopt my family for Christmas and asked me what the kids would like and I threw a couple of ideas out there, and then didn’t think much more about it. All I can say is that I’m overwhelmed by the extravagance in which they showed love to me and my family after a year of desperation and secretly wondering if anyone really cared, this year people showed that yes they do care. These people really were extravagant in their gifts, gifting me with a brand new queen sized bed because mine was broken and new pillows and bedding on top of that. They bought the kids name brand toys in abundance and nice clothes and socks too. I’m so overwhelmed by it all and so, so grateful.

This year, for Christmas, I learned that some people do care, and that maybe, just maybe, God might even care what happens to me.


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