Back in ‘92, I lived in Kennett. I was a young mom with a two and four year old. Life was far from bad, but we were very poor and I was sure tired by the end of the day. I received a phone call from a regional director for a place I did not know of in Poplar Bluff. I couldn’t fathom why she was calling me. She explained that she was talking with a friend about a little boy named Quinton who was five. Quinton who had been born normal and healthy but was abused by his father. The result was brain damage and he was being retrained to walk and talk. She told me that Quinton had been in her facility for one year and that he had captured her heart as well as everyone else’s who worked with him. She further explained that she was on a mission to find Quinton the very best foster family she could find. She believed with the right family that he could really improve upon his condition. She said that the friend with whom she was talking mentioned my name and that I was an awesome young mother. She asked if I would be willing to meet Quinton. I was so flattered and I quickly agreed to the meeting.
He was so beautiful!!!! I loved him at first glance. He had on a khaki jumpsuit with airplane logo patches on the pants and sleeves. The lady explained to me that they bought him this outfit for his meeting with me. And that she intentionally bought it too big. And did so, so he could wear it for a long time. After the meeting, the woman told me to think about it for a while before I made a decision. On the ride home, my husband said “Lis, we gotta take him, we have love to give him and the money we would receive for his care could really help our family.” My reply was “I’ll pray about it and leave the decision to God.” Every day for a week my husband would say any answers yet? On the seventh day a resounding, and guilty “NO” came from my mouth before I could think about it. I cried and made a promise to Quinton that I would pray for him for the rest of my life. But that did not ease the guilt that I felt.
