Prayer in My Heart

This is a story about another of my school students. I will call her BJ. She was of mixed race and had the most beautiful complexion I have ever seen. She was 14, overweight, lost and lonely. Her home was extremely dis-functional and she seemed lost and scared most of the time. She had spent most of her life in and out of foster care, but when I first met her she was living with her mother and her mother's current boyfriend. There was verbal abuse, neglect and probably worse in her life, but she was determined to rise above her life. She came to me one Monday morning, very excited. She had gone for a walk the previous morning and found a little store front church where everyone welcomed her. She continued to attend this little church and came in one day to tell me she had accepted Jesus and been baptized in a large water trough the day before. We talked about our beliefs in God and Jesus and shared a sweet moment. Our friendship continued to blossom and she began to trust me. One morning one of the boys said, "Mrs. C., BJ is out in the hall and won't come in." I went out to see her and she told me that her family had been locked out of their apartment and she didn't have any underwear. I left school and went to Wal-mart and brought her back a bag of underwear. She told me she had never had new panties. One day she had a terrible tangle in her hair, which was extremely tightly curled so she tried to cut it out. She came to me crying because her hair looked really bad. I got permission to take her to a salon where they cut and styled her hair and made her feel pretty. Everyone at school commented on how pretty she was. Her smile that day made her truly beautiful. She continued to share with me and open her heart about her life. One day she was in the hall crying and I took her for a walk. She told me that no one had ever loved her. That she felt alone and sad all of the time. Her mother did drugs, her brother was a male prostitute. (I never knew there were any of these in quiet little Carson City), and they were living in a motel where she was being exposed to all of these vices. We talked and I reminded her of her belief in God and assured her that she was loved, I shared with her my belief that she was a precious daughter of a Heavenly Father. We cried together and I put into motion the paper work needed to get her out of that environment.
On the morning of September 11, 2001. I was headed to work when I heard about the terrorist attack in New York City. I rushed into the school and there was my sweet little gal, crying, terrified that we were at war. She rushed to me and begged, "Mrs. C. will you pray with me?" I explained that although I could not pray with her at school because I would lose my job, all day we would each pray in our hearts. Every time we would see each other, we would touch our hearts and remember that we were praying together. That day she would come into the room between each class and place her hand over her heart, and I would do the same. Not long after that day, she was removed from her mother. I took her to meet her social worker to head for a new foster home. As I helped her place her meager possessions into a bag, we talked. I expressed my affection for her, and told her I would pray for her. When the social worker came and took her, I hugged her and she told me,"Don't worry about me Mrs. C., I was baptized and I have the Holy Ghost, I will be fine. Besides, I am used to this." I cried as I watched them drive away, and many time I have thought of that little girl and had a prayer in my heart for her. How sad that any child gets used to living that kind of life. But how wonderful that the human spirit can strive to rise above some of life's worst trials.