of East Baton Rouge

The week before we began to notice an unusual increase in young moms with little children stopping by early and then off and on throughout the day. We have a “give away” library so we encouraged them to come in to let the kids choose a couple of books and the moms to choose books or magazines for themselves. We also share the resources we have and give them a list of additional resources (that I hope one day will be located at the Family and Youth Service Center [FYSC]). Monday a mom came in with a 4-month old baby girl and the sweetest little 1 year old boy. It was about 9:30 am but already 93°F. The little boy was dressed in a winter weight, full length one-piece long-sleeved sleeper that went all the way down to the footies covering his hot little feet. I have some small toys in my office to give to the little kids so he stayed occupied and happy. The baby was sleeping and my new little friend’s mom laid her head back in the chair she was sitting in and went to sleep as well. She woke up when the baby started stirring and started gathering their belongings. Everything they owned was stuffed in plastic grocery bags, hanging from the handles of the baby’s stroller with my little friend climbing into the net below the stroller to ride underneath. I gave them some bottles of water, a few little toys, crayons for my friend, wipes for the mom to wipe faces, little hands, and bottoms (when needed) and watched as they left, praying that I would see them again to ease my fears and know my little friend and his sister are alright. She was searching for a place for them to sleep but Baton Rouge only has three shelters for moms with children and they were full. She fled here from New Orleans with hope that we would have more resources. Such a sad mistake. I used to believe that I know poor because I lived it but I was wrong. “Poor” is not about money. My parents didn’t have two extra nickels to rub together and we were always running our hands through cushions to find change to buy milk. I grew up playing with my sisters and cousins. We never went hungry, had a roof over our heads, and always had a bed to sleep in. One bed for all 3 of us, but we had a bed. Then I grew up and began to understand how it felt to be the mama and worry about the children. When Duke was in law school it was tough. We wouldn’t have made it without the “old house” that Mrs. Welch let us live in. Money was so tight it was hard; really hard. When my pantry was empty Mama always knew. We would often eat at my parents’ house. When it got “icebox cold” in our house or suffocatingly hot Mrs. Welch would have “sleepovers” for our children so they would be safe and could sleep comfortably. My kids grew up playing with their cousins just like I did. They never went hungry and always had a roof over their heads and a bed to sleep in. I have eaten white rice with margarine for supper, paid the water bill with cans I collected, been so cold I couldn’t feel my fingers. I grew up in a family that barely made ends meet and had years as an adult that felt even worse because I was the mama. But I’ve always had family so I have never been “poor”. I do not know how these girls lost their families. Some never had them. The world already has enough people who judge. It’s not my job. If there’s judgement to be had, I’m going to leave that to the only One who knows the whole story, God. My job is to try to make certain that when my time of Judgement comes God will know I tried my best. The Family and Youth Service Center is a “No Judgement Zone”. We are a non- profit and have suffered from financial cuts but I believe in the Power of God and His Love that is seen through the angels that walk among us. If we had the additional funds I would love to have a Day Stop for homeless moms at the Center. Imagine a place where moms and their little ones would be safe and out of the heat and weather. A place with resources that empowers the moms and strengthens the children. A place where we would no longer watch a mom with a 4 month in a stroller and a 1 year old riding underneath walk off to find their next stopping place until they walk back to the shelter hoping to find that a different mom has not made it there in time. I do not understand this world or the difficulties faced by children. I believe that this time on earth is not even a blink compared to eternity. I do not believe that God is involved in any way in the evils around us. People have free will and cause evil. I do believe that God sees all and God sees us and how we react to the evils. Do we shake our heads as we turn away; judge those who suffer; help; or do our very best to help? The Family and Youth Service Center is filled with God’s love and people who are there with one purpose: to help. We always need friends to join us. There are so many ways to help: donating monthly, one-time donations, round-ups with your credit/debit card, and donating items and/or time. Please always feel free to contact us with any questions.

It’s a family thing that was passed down through generations on my mother’s side. There is peace in a flower garden, pride in a vegetable garden, and pure joy in an orchard. The Family and Youth Service Center has built itself over the years by paying attention to the needs of the people who walk through our doors and those we see as they walk along Government St. to wherever their feet will take them and the ones who sit on our small brick wall waiting for the bus. People find their way here or are sent because of terrible circumstances as well as families facing the day-to-day difficulties that come with raising children and the hardship that comes with being a child. The efforts to lessen the burdens are the building blocks, the foundation of this amazing place with separate agencies who have their own staffs but work so well together, meeting needs far beyond their own capabilities. If I was given a dollar every time someone told me, “There’s something about this place.” we would never need additional funding. I have always thought that “the thing about this place” is a God thing. Over the years we have seen the results of evil but we’ve also seen the angels. Once, a while back, a tall, strong looking man walked in for some help. He didn’t know exactly where he was supposed to go or who he was to ask for. I happened to be at the door when he walked in so I asked him to give me an idea of what brought him here so I could get him to the right spot. He started with, “I’m supposed to get a check to help bury my sister-in-law’s baby.” This mountain of a man began to shrink before my eyes. Mostly talking to himself he said, “I don’t know what we are going to do.” The specifics of the case are his to tell, not mine, but what I can tell you is that he and his wife had taken on the responsibility of raising the surviving child, an infant as well. They didn’t have a baby bed, clothes, diapers, and didn’t know what formula the baby needed. They already had children and this new one was likely to bring challenges into their home. The man had absolutely no responsibility toward this little child but he never said that. He just needed to bury the brother, find a bed for the one he now had, and to take care of today, this moment, right now; tomorrow would come and he would face that then. Now, the God thing. A day or two before he walked into our doors a lady brought a “Pack ‘n Play” to donate along with bags of infant clothing that her baby had outgrown. Crime Victims Assistance helped with the money to bury the little boy, Capital Area Family Justice Center gave him diapers, Fathers on a Mission gave cans of several different kinds of formula, and we gave the bed and clothing that had been so generously shared. That’s this place: Everyone working toward one mission of helping. The “God thing” wasn’t us, it was watching him as he walked out and realizing that we had just met one of God’s angels. A man, who clearly loved his wife enough to handle whatever she needed, who opened his home to a baby who was not his responsibility, a child who, but for the Grace of God, would have long term difficulties and challenges. This little baby needed an angel and He was there, in a mountain of a man. We see the worst that people do to each other but we also see the very best. That is our blessing. Just as we think we can’t see or hear any more, we meet an angel or hear from a child we thought we had lost or one we knew had been saved because a person cared. I love this place. I feel God here. I meet his angels every day, usually down the hall, upstairs, or across the sidewalk just doing what they do, never knowing how miraculous simple kindness can be.