Heres a blog from the BAAF website about a fostered childs experience of Christmas: I am officially now allowed to get excited about Christmas. Within our family the watershed this year was the 01 December, and before this I was expected to manage and not show any outward signs. As it was, I just let the excitement show at work instead... The reason for my excitement and general love for Christmas is all down to my foster parents. I grew up from the age of 18 months with the same foster parents, who to me are my family. The Christmas routine went the same every year, I would wake up extremely early, try to convince my foster parents that they wanted to be awake at 3am, and to convince my older foster sister that she, too, wanted to be awake. This would go with differing levels of success. At the point of being awake, we would then sit on the stairs anxiously awaiting Dad entering the front room, and without fail, coming out and saying “It doesnt look like hes been this year...” - every year. At which stage I would point out that I could already see the stockings behind him, and zoom past. After the rushed joy of stockings, pulling out boxes of tissues, toys, sweets, satsuma and nuts, Mum taking back the satsuma and nuts from the bottom, and putting them straight back in the fruit bowl, came what felt like an unending afternoon of family time, games and classic Christmas films. This may all sound like your usual Christmas, and in many ways it was, but what made it different was that this family chose me. They looked after me as their own, their Christmas was my Christmas, their family was my family. I have never once felt less loved and cared for from being a foster child and when I now celebrate with my own children, I hope they take away a little bit of my love and experience of Christmas. Even if it is only that I put their satsuma straight back into the fruit bowl.
Posted on: Mon, 22 Dec 2014 08:17:58 +0000
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