It Made Me Want to...

take in 17 foster children.

Yes, really.

See, I read this book while I was on vacation (Chasing Fireflies--by Charles Martin) and the author wrote with such depth of emotion and persuasion, I wanted to become a foster mom. One of those foster moms that always has room for one more hurting kid. One of those foster moms that will silently hide under the bed with them. One of those foster moms that can say a million life-changing things in one short sentence. One of those foster moms that tells them not to call me mom, because that name needs to be available for whenever their mom comes to get them. One of those foster moms that doesn't smash their last bit of hope because that is, after all, what will keep them going.

Okay, I'm obviously dreaming. I don't think I'm wise enough or strong enough to do that. But.... I know how to love. And maybe that's what they really need.

*ceases rambling and gets back to the book*

Chasing Fireflies is written from the perspective of a newsman who is trying to uncover the truth about his foster dad. The foster dad has been the object of ridicule and insults and even outright hatred from the town's residents, but the crime he supposedly committed years and years before, has a large mystery attached to it. On his way, this newsman gets thrown in jail three times, runs into an abandoned child (who reminds him of himself when he was small), has an (acquired) sister die from AIDS, and bumps into love (doesn't every good story have a touch of romance? *grin*). The mystery element was fabulous, the characters so well-developed that I'd love to meet these people, but the real reason I loved this book was the amazing way the author paints life from a foster child's perspective. It made me laugh, and (almost) cry, and understand, and get angry, and want to lock up people who do awful things to kids, and... well... want to take in 17 hurting kids.