Foster Parents Abandon Daughter on 18th Birthday, Beg Her on Knees to Return Next Day

This was the worst of my entire childhood in foster care. When the children reached the age of 18, this couple would cast them out and they would never be seen again. They would then enlist a group of children and utilise us as labourers in their farming business. This is what I experienced.

Leaning on my hoe, I enjoyed the gentle warmth of the dawn as it touched my face. I nearly forget the realities of my life as a child labourer at times like these. Nearly.

“Anna, stop daydreaming and get back to work!” The calm was broken gruffly by Mr. Thompson’s voice.

I stood up straight and forced a grin. I said, “Ye-yes, sir,” and went back to work.

Mrs. Thompson soon came out of the house, dabbing at her hands with her apron. “Remember that it’s almost your birthday, Anna, my beloved. We have a unique treat in store for you.” Although there was always a hint of sharpness underneath, her voice was always milder.

A knot started to grow in my throat as I paused. “I’m grateful, Mrs. Thompson. That has great significance.”
Growing up in foster care on the Thompson farm, turning eighteen was a significant event but also an unknown. Would this be my home still?
Mrs. Thompson glittered with excitement the night before I turned eighteen.

She said, “Anna, we have a surprise for you,” with remarkable vigour. “A trip to the city, just for you!”

It astonished me. “Are you serious? For me, please?” The city was somewhere I had only ever dreamed of going—an uncharted experience.
Mr. Thompson responded, “Yes, dear,” as a rare grin broke through his hard look. Think of it as our birthday present to you. We felt that since you’ve been so helpful on the farm, you should receive something special.

Excitation rushed through my mind as we travelled to the metropolis. The Thompsons told us stories and pointed out sites as though we were a joyful family travelling together. We arrived late that evening and made our way to a small motel. “Take a nap,” Mrs. Thompson advised. “Tomorrow is a significant day for us. Anna, happy birthday.”

I said, “Thank you,” my heart overflowing with appreciation. I smiled as I drifted off to sleep that night, dreaming of all the exciting things I could do the next day.

But that dream was dashed the following morning.

Beside me was a note from Mrs. Thompson saying, “Anna, you’re eighteen now.” You’re by yourself. I wish you luck.”

I have very little memory of my life before to turning four. Even though I had lived with the Thompsons since I was five years old, I never felt like I belonged in a true family. I used to worry why I was in foster care and who my true parents were.

To tell the truth, I had heard the Thompsons mention one evening that they wouldn’t be able to keep me after I turned eighteen. I was listening in on their chat from behind the door of the living room.

Although I was not good at confrontation, I needed answers. I had to be aware of my position. I inhaled deeply before entering the living room.

“Is that accurate? When I become 18, will you force me to leave?” I asked them directly.
The Thompsons looked at each other. First to recover, Mrs. Thompson smiled reassuringly. “Oh, Anna, you got it wrong. We were talking about farm policies, I guess. You belong in our family. How come we would send you away?”

Mr. Thompson gave me a nod of agreement, but we didn’t look at each other. “You’re correct. Anna, don’t worry about it. This is your home.”

The scepticism had been sown, even though I wanted to believe them and hold onto the hope they presented. I feigned a laugh. “I’m grateful. Thank you very much. The words had the same hollow feeling as the security they had offered.

I went to the fields with the other foster children the following morning. There was Tom, whose laugh could make the gloomiest days better, and Lucy, a shy girl with strength buried in her eyes.

They were my adopted family, and I questioned whether they would share my fate or not. I just realised that perhaps they were. My foster parents had abandoned me when I was eighteen, and they would do the same to those youngsters when they became eighteen.

With no idea what to do, I left the motel. I had no money at all. There was a flurry of activity on the downtown streets. However, I felt even more alone because no one seemed to be paying attention to me.

But when Jade, a sweet woman, saw that I was sad, she volunteered to help. She said, “Hey, are you okay?” I nodded, not sure what to say.

Then she said, “You don’t look okay,” and gave me the address of her nearby café in case I needed anything.

“I’m grateful,” I muttered.
I was overwhelmed by the noises of the city as I strolled around. I found myself in a park, where I observed families spending time together and felt even more alone. I realised I had nowhere to go when it grew cold and dark outside.

I discovered a place to sleep next to a closed business that evening. I was resolved not to let the Thompsons’ actions break me, even though it was chilly and uncomfortable.

Feeling hungry and uncertain about my future, I visited Jade’s café the following day. Despite her seeming surprise, she invited me inside.

Her words, “I didn’t expect to see you again,” were genuine. I informed her that I had no other option. She listened to my story and offered me breakfast.

Jade gave me hope with her generosity. Despite losing my house with the Thompsons, I was confident and prepared to take on new challenges.
I ran into Mac, a homeless man, outside a grocery store when I was out and about in the city. He knew I was having trouble.

He questioned, “Lost or just hungry?” I declared that I was both. I hadn’t eaten much at the café with Jade because I was so nervous.

In this large, unfamiliar city, he was kind enough to give me an apple. I realised that taking anything from a stranger wasn’t very safe. But I had a gut feeling that Mac was trustworthy. It was not the Thompsons like him. I was served a hot supper at the community centre where he escorted me.

I sat at a table with Mac. I was interrupted mid-meal by a voice. We were eating and talking. Upon seeing the Thompsons in the community centre, a chill went down my spine.

“Anna!” Running over, Mrs. Thompson cried out. “We’ve been looking everywhere for you!”
It stunned me. “How did you find me?” Shaking my voice, I questioned.

“We had a conversation with Jade over at the café,” Mrs. Thompson said. “Then, we met a homeless gentleman near the café, and he told us he saw you with Mac.” He said that Mac frequents this centre frequently.”

“Anna, we need you back. We consider you to be family,” Mrs. Thompson said, attempting to seem genuine.

Mr. Thompson went on, “Yes, you’re a leader as well as a hard worker.” Without you, we wouldn’t be able to function. We implore you.” He then dropped to his knees next to our table, evoking looks from everyone in the space. His spouse followed suit.

I heard Mac murmur to me, “You don’t have to go with them if you don’t want to.”

With Mac’s help, I felt powerful and got to my feet. “I refuse to accompany you back. I said to the Thompsons, “You left me here by myself.

They even offered me a position on the farm, pleading with me to come back. “Please return. Mrs. Thompson begged, “We’ll pay you, and you’ll have a real home with us.”

I went outdoors and took a time to gather my thoughts. Their offer was alluring since it included both stability and cash. However, could one trust the Thompsons? No. I could be abandoned again by the same folks.

My mind was cleared by the refreshing air. The Thompsons were still hopeful I would say yes, inside.

I noticed the optimistic expression in the Thompsons’ eyes as I turned back to the table. hollowly, “You’re family to us,” Mrs. Thompson repeated.

I had lost much of the meaning in their statements. Family doesn’t desert or take advantage of one another, I’ve learned.

“I must now make my own way,” I adamantly informed them. “I’m staying here.”

The Thompsons made another attempt to persuade me of their “love,” but I refused to bow down. They eventually departed, defeat hunching over their shoulders.

Mac gave me a gentle shoulder pat. “You have guts, child. Few people are able to stand up like that.”

I grinned. “Many thanks, Mac. Without you, I could not have completed it.”

He gave a modest shrug. At times, we all require a little assistance. I’m confident you’ll find your path,” he remarked.

That night, as I slept at the community centre, I had hope for a fresh start. In addition, I concluded that I could not overlook the Thompsons’ treatment of other foster children.

Telling Mac, who was sleeping next to me, “We need to stop them,” “What they’re doing is wrong.”

Mac said, “We’ll go to the police.” “That’d be the right to do.”

And that’s what we accomplished. We went to the police station the following day and told an officer everything about the Thompsons and how they had handled the other kids and me.

Telling the policeman, “I want to report a case of exploitation and abuse,” “It’s about a couple who are using foster children as labour on their farm.”

The policeman paid close attention and pledged to look into it. We provided him with every detail we knew.

The other children were transported to a safer location when the Thompsons were apprehended by the authorities. For us, it seemed like a major victory.

“Well done, Anna. Mac told me, “You changed those kids’ lives,” and I was pleased.

When I began helping at the community centre, I discovered my calling in life. I was empowered and eager to assist others.

The director of the centre, Mrs. Jenkins, approached me one evening. “Anna, I’ve been wanting to talk to you,” she replied. “You now play a crucial role in this place. Not only does your path and strength inspire the people we assist, but it also motivates all of us who work here.”

With a flush of pride, I said nothing but wondered where this was going.
“I’ve discussed this with the board, and we believe you’re ready for more responsibility,” Mrs. Jenkins went on. We would want to make you an offer to work here as the shelter’s supervisor.”

I felt astonished and thrilled. “Superintendent?” Astonished, I repeated.

“Yes,” she responded. “You’ve demonstrated true leadership and are an excellent communicator. You will have a place to reside as part of the employment, so this will be your home.”

The opportunity to help more and have a stable home was more than I could have imagined when I received the offer.

“This means so much to me, Mrs. Jenkins. Feeling touched by the offer, I answered, “I’m very thankful.”

“You’ve earned this, Anna,” she comforted me. “You’re a big part of our family here, and we want to support you.”
I happily accepted the employment offer while crying. “I’m grateful. I’ll try my hardest,” I vowed.

As I closed the centre that evening, I was overcome with gratitude. Despite its ups and downs, my journey brought me to a place where I could change things and start over.