Most foster care stories are sad. They are abused, scared, moved from one home to another, mistreated, ect. I didn’t have that experience. After being removed from my home, I was immediately admitted into Park City Hospital in Bridgeport, CT. I lived in that hospital for several months until I could be placed into a temporary foster home.
The home that I was placed into was located at 161 Sixth Street, I’ll never forget that address. We were placed with the Mackey Family. This was where I was introduced for the first time to God. The Mackey’s was a Pastor and First Lady. When were first placed with them they were using their basement as a church home, but not too long after that they acquired a building. At this new church is where I learned to usher, and sing in the choir. It’s the place that I learned how to serve. All of the Mackey kids were involved in the church, no exceptions.
One Sunday I was sitting in church. I happened to turn around and was blinded by a bright light. The light was coming from two pews behind me. I felt like there was an angel sitting right behind me. I couldn’t stop turning around to look into the face of this angel. Immediately after church I wanted to speak to this angel. She was older than me by probably 8 or 9 years. I found out that her name was Sylvia. I was in love. Something just drew me to her. I’d like to think it was the divine plan of God. Sylvia was visiting the church with her siblings. I never knew why she came, but to this day I believe she was sent by God just for me. For two weeks I begged my foster mother, Mrs. Mackey, “can we take her home?, please can we take her home?”. One Sunday we finally did, we took her home to live with us. Sylvia played a pivotal role in my life. She spoiled me. She took me on her dates, she listened to me speak my fears, she held me when I cried, she calmed my very soul. She literally protected me, she was my rock, Sylvia was my angel.
One afternoon, my foster siblings and I were playing in the back yard. I suddenly heard someone call out “Sana, I’m over here Sana, come to the gate” when I ran to the gate before me stood my mother. I birth mother. It had been at least a year since I watched her being dragged away by the police, and now here she was right in front of my very eyes. As I ran to open the gate to hug her, I was cut off my foster mother. She screaming for me to get in the house. “You can’t be here” she told my mom, “how did you find them?, you can’t see them”. I was pushed into the house and for what seemed like hours, I stood at the door sobbing as my mother stood on the other side begging to see her babies. I think I cried myself to sleep sitting at that door and finally the banging on the door stopped and the sound of my mother calling my name was gone. She was gone.
Life with the Mackey’s was good. I can’t remember bad times there. I was comfortable. I was home.
On October 1, 1990 my life went through another shift. I went off to school with my siblings as I normally did, I said by to Sylvia and walked to Newfield elementary school. At Lunch time I was called to the lunch room. The lunch room was decorated for a party. balloons, gifts, the whole nine. I was quite surprised and confused. My 8th birthday was a few days away so surely this was not a birthday party so what was going on?. Suddenly my social worker Ms. Gay walked in the room. She said to me, surprise, this is your going away adoption party. Huh?, Adoption party? “Yes” she stated. Today your going to live with your new family, the Mayfield’s.
I never got to go back to 161 Sixth Street. I never said goodbye to Sylvia. I never said goodbye to the Mackey’s. I was placed in the car where all of my clothes were already packed and in the trunk, and away we went. Next stop, New Britain, CT.