After that night I
never lived or stayed at my father’s house again. Another family took me in the
next night. Luckily I had many friends my parents did not know, so finding me
was difficult. I learned my lesson the first time- I never called my brothers
or family and told them where I was again.
The new family was so nice to me, everyone but the mom.
She put up with me being there, but the undertone was obvious- she disliked me
being there.
Making my stay as beneficial as I could, or at least as
little of an inconvenience as possible, was an important undertone I naturally
felt. You cannot help but feel like a burden or an inconvenience when you live
with people. However, these people took me into their home and I felt relatively
safe- an inconvenience, but safe.
One day a few days into staying with them our class
pictures came out. I wanted so badly to get one. The son asked the father and the
father gave him the money. Then the daughter- my friend- aked her father for
the money, and he gave it to her. I nervously paced and avoided eye contact.
How could I ask for so much from someone who was kind enough to take me in and put
up with me? Yes it was a simple $10-20 item, but I could not be any more of a burden
than I already was. But there he was, attention turned to me.
Maggie? Did you
want one, too?
Yes! I would love
one.
OK. – Wait I don’t have
enough change.
Oh don’t worry. It’s
ok.
Nonsense.
Then he had my friend exchange cash with him to get the
correct amount of change for us to use. His wife tried to ignore the situation
because she could hardly keep her bitter expression off her face.
Here you go,
Maggie.
Thank you so much,
sir.
When no one was looking that night, I cried. Something so
simple meant so much to me. Thank you is truly hard to convey when it touches you so deeply.
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