I live next door to a youth detention center (aka youth jail). I’m a 47 year old widowed woman; my only daughter is away at college. Last night, a few children escaped from this detention center. And what do I find in my basement? A 10 year old boy. He told me his sob story and I believe him for the most part. He was very hungry; I fed him because he was emaciated. When I helped him out of his rags for a bath, I notice these huge whelts along his back and stomach. He says they beat children in there with whips. I laid him down to sleep in my guest room, but he came into my room and asked to lay with me because he had a nightmare. I cuddled up with him and asked him when did he last get a hug- he said 3 years! That made me hug him more. He looked up at me with his big, green eyes and asked me if I loved him. How could I say no? He told me that staff at the jail told him no one would ever love him; that he’d just be passed around like trash his whole life because no one wanted him. It broke my heart.
He had an accident in my bed…he immediately curled up into a ball on the floor, yelling out, “Please don’t whip me!” Over and over again. How can I turn him in? I’ve had him two days now and he seems more confident already. I want to take off with him in the middle of the night and both of us start over, fresh. I want this boy to grow up with love and confidence.

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