Discover Smith Mountain Lake
WINTER 2016
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be separated, the boys from the girls. The three
older children were rejected with every call. No one
wanted teenagers. She considered leaving the three
oldest children with Mrs Jackson and putting the five
youngest ones in foster homes, where there was hope
that they’d be adopted. She couldn’t even keep those
five together. No one had room. Another meeting with
Mrs Jackson was scheduled, so Maya could meet and
interview the kids.
The younger ones were the first to arrive. Maya had
trouble remembering which children were Mrs.
Jackson’s, and which were nieces and nephews. To
complicate matters some of the nieces and nephews
were calling her “Mama” right along with her natural
children. Mrs. Jackson explained that the youngest
one had started calling her “mama” right away, and
then some of the older ones had picked it up. Seven
of the 14 children were in grades 1 through 8. Maya
watched in amazement as they entered the kitchen.
They stared back at her. It wasn’t every day they saw a
white woman in a business suit sitting at their kitchen
table.
She smiled at them, and said a few words to each. The
novelty of her being there soon wore off, and they
began asking “Mama” for snacks. Mrs. Jackson handed
a jar of peanut butter to one of the older children, and
a box of graham crackers to another. “Fix yourselves
some snacks,” she said, “while I talk to Miss Broude.
Then you go play and be quiet.”
One by one, the older kids streamed in, and the scene
was repeated. Mrs. Jackson admonished them a few
times about keeping the noise down, and not to ruin
their appetites before dinner. If a disagreement broke
out, or a younger one needed something, she sent
an older child to help. Twice she had to get up and
take care of matters herself. As she prepared to leave,
Maya had the urge to hug the older woman. Instead,
she shook her hand, and promised to get back to her
within a week.
As she and her escort pulled away from in front of the
apartment building, she noticed that Mrs. Jackson’s
apartment had Christmas lights flashing in the front
window. She laughed when she noticed that the glass
had been “decorated” with spray-on snow, obviously
by one of the children. The string of lights drooped
unevenly at the top, and there were several bulbs
that had burned out. What a contrast to the elegant
menorah that was visible through her parents’ window.
“Can we drive around the block once?” She asked. The
streets were empty. It was too cold that day for gangs
to hang out on corners. “The one good thing about
winter”, Maya thought with small satisfaction.
There was only one other apartment in the whole block
with Christmas lights up. For all their garishness, they
did brighten the dismal scene somewhat with a small
display of buoyancy, Maya thought, then added aloud:
“What a frightful neighborhood,” as they drove away.
The court date for placement of the children was
December 23. She should have placed them in the
children’s home until the hearing, but she didn’t. She
had left them with their aunt. She had found homes
for the younger children – two per home. Rosie, the
baby of the lot, would be placed in a third home.
Maya was fairly sure the foster family would adopt
her, but they couldn’t take more as they already had
two adopted children, one with special needs. She
would recommend that the three older children stay
permanently with Mrs. Jackson.
It was the last day of Hanukkah, so she spent it with
her parents. During dinner, she told them about Mrs.
Jackson and her sister’s orphaned children.
“I just want to do the right thing for them.”
“You will,” her father said. “You’ll know what’s right.”
“Yes, I do know what’s right. It’s right that they stay
together, but do I risk my job to do what’s right?
According to the State of Illinois, I should have moved
them out of there long ago. Some of them are sleeping
on the floor, Dad. I don’t even want to think about the
possibility of a fire.”
He reached over and took her hand in his.
“Follow your heart,” he said as he squeezed her fingers.
“You only have one heart. There are many other jobs.”
She became busy with other cases for the next few
days, including a follow-up on Ben and Anna and Bitty.
She had managed to locate their grandmother, who
said she would take them. Ben had not been doing well
in his foster home. This came as no surprise to Maya.
Both Mr. and Mrs. Jackson were in the courtroom on
the day of the hearing.
