I knew he was getting out soon...I'd seen him 2 times back in 2010 when he'd been released in the summer after doing multiple years. I gave him all the advice I could, gave him a blanket because he had no place to go (he'd aged out of Covenant House years before) and was sleeping outside, a few hygiene items from my stash, and wished him well. "Come see me! Even if you aren't doing well!" was always my goodbye refrain.
A couple of months after he came home in 2010 he violated parole and went back in. I followed him on the Department of Corrections website, shared a few letters here and there, just to let him know he wasn't forgotten. He'd write back with pleas to call him Mom or Dad for money (which I did), and thanked me profusely for always being there.
He was slated to be released last Friday. I knew I was taking a 4 day holiday weekend and might not be there if/when he showed up so I made a little bag of tee shirts, hygiene, items, candy, and a "Welcome Home!" card in case he stopped by when I wasn't there. When I showed up at work today the bag was still where I'd left it. Darn...
Not 10 minutes later, a staff came into my office and announced, "You have visitors!" It was MO! He'd brought his little brother with him (little=in his 20's). I fussed and gushed and got one of those "Just came home" hugs I've come to expect and relish from my kids. He planted himself in my office, I gave him his bag, and we began to chat...as his little brother scanned every collage and picture I had in my office, correctly identifying every gang member and seeming to marvel that I, some white lady, knew "so-n-so". "I told you--everybody know Ms. Jen and everybody love Ms. Jen", came the declaration of credibility from Mo. His little brother seemed unimpressed or else didn't share his awestruckness. I asked Mo what his plans were...he didn't have any. I asked where he was staying...he was couch surfing. I knew what I knew...that he didn't have anything and anyone besides the random strangers he'd meet and now, gang connections that his brother would introduce him to. A recipe for a predictable end.
I gave my usual "just came home" speech...and asked him if he'd been in touch with his parents. He'd connected with his dad, who wasn't in a position to do much for him, but couldn't locate his mother. And then he said something that was so bittersweet it haunted me for the rest of the day. "All the whole time I was locked up, all these years, I always gave the same information of who to call and who would be there, " I made a, "Huh?" face. "For emergency contact...You know we have to fill out forms when we go in. I always put the same person: Mrs. Jennifer Williams". I was dumbfounded. Me? THE emergency contact for this kid for 10+ years? "Why me?" I asked, even though I already knew the answer. "Cuz you always there, you've always been there...You're the only one I can count on", he replied.
I'm coming up on my completion of 16 years at Covenant House on November 17th. If ever there were a reason I stay, it's for kids like this. NOT that I'm any kind of wonderful counselor or life changer or anything...but it's the consistency. I made a covenant years ago to love and serve these kids with absolute respect and unconditional love as our mission calls us to. And unless the LORD makes it absolutely crystal clear that HE has other plans for me, I will NOT abandon that. For people like Mo, who knew that in spite of all the other headaches about coming home to nothing after 3+ years in prison, at least Ms. Jen would be there...bag of hygiene, and tee shirts, and candy, and a little card...plus a hug, well wishes, and encouragement to try and do the right thing.
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