When It's Not a Fairy Tale Ending...

"You left and you never came back."

Those were the words whispered to me as I laid on a hard bed in a dimly lit house filled with random people and stroked the hair of a former student who was coming down off a trip on an unknown drug.

About four months ago my heart pounded as I heard, "Ms. Morgan...it's me," on the other end of the phone line. It was the voice of a former student in Atlanta who had run away and been missing for several months. I had done everything I could to try and find her via internet research on facebook, twitter and instagram. I sent messages to people on her contact list asking them to please have her call me. She had blocked me because I think she knew I would not stop trying to find her. I did everything short of going to Atlanta and driving the streets myself. Eventually she decided to come home and she called to let me know. Her plan was to start Job Corp. She sounded good. She sounded happy. She sounded like the girl I once knew. The one who had a dream.

We talked a few more times but I had not heard from her in about a month or two. I was in Atlanta this past weekend and decided to visit some of the students we had worked with before moving back to Savannah. I called this particular students house and the grandmother who takes care of all of her grandchildren proceeded to tell me that several of her grandkids were "going crazy" and she didn't know what to do with them. She told me that her granddaughter previous mentioned had not started Job Corp, had run away again and just come back recently. She had come in that afternoon speaking nonsense and acting crazy because she was "on something" and was currently sleeping it off. When I asked about her grandson she told me he was in jail awaiting trial for a robbery, but the adult he was with when committing the crime had received 15-20 years. Her grandson is only 13. My heart ached. Why? Why were these kids running hard and fast toward crime, danger, wrecklessness? The laughter and memories we had shared ran through my head. I told the grandmother I was on my way.

I pulled up in front of a house I had been to many times. Several of the siblings greeted me with hugs and smiles. As I walked in the door the only light in the house was that of the TV screen. I could barely make out the faces of those I knew and there was a girl passed out on the couch. I squinted to see if it was my girl. One of the other kids directed me to the back bedroom and said "she" was asleep on the bed. There was an old man sitting in a chair next to the bed watching a football game. I've always seen him but he never speaks. I excused myself as I squeezed past him and gently settled on the bed next to the student whom I have prayed, ached and cried for many times over the past 3 years. I started stroking her hair gently to let her know I was there.

"Ms. Morgan?"

 - "Yes honey...it's me."

(sigh)

 - "What are you doing sweetheart?"

"I don't even know. I don't know what I took. Is there a girl on the couch?"

 - "Yes. She is asleep."

"Oh man. I thought she would be gone."

 - "Sweet girl. I've been so worried about you."

"You left and you never came back."

 - "Oh but I did, but when I came back you were gone...you had run away. I told you even though we moved I would always be here. I'm here now"

(She looked up and started stroking my hair)
"I guess people go their seperate ways, We thought we were never gonna hear from you. But you were the only one that called.. Yeah....I know you were looking for me too. My friends told me."

-"Do you know why I do what I do today?"

"Why?"

-"Because of you. You were the first dreamer. Everytime I see a student now, I think of you. What happened to your dreams?"

(she sat upright on the bed)
"I don't know. I'm about to get really mad."

-"Why? At who?"

"At myself. Why did I let myself get to this point? I don't even know why I'm doing what I'm doing."

-"It's never too late sweet girl. I believe in you. You are talented. Beautiful. You have SO much ahead of you, but you have to choose it. It's not easy, but it's worth it. Let's go get some fresh air."

We stepped outside and stood by my car and talked awhile longer. I looked up to see a teenager standing in the window of the abandoned house across the street throwing up gang signs and then causing the sounds of a taser shock. My girl said, "oooo I should have beat him yesterday, he's always standing over there with a gun in his pants acting all cool."

I took a deep breathe and gave her a hug and told her I would be back in a few weeks to check on her.
She asked me if she could come back to Savannah with me. I told her she had to start making some wise choices and get off the drugs before she came home with me but we could revisit the conversation later.

I drove home with another girl who we have walked through the fire with and thankfully come out the other side. Through a cracked voice and tear brimmed eyes I said, "I'm proud of you." She said, "Why, Mama Morgan?"  I replied with..."I just am. Papa Glenn and I are so proud of you."

I dreamed of being able to say that to the student whom I'd just left coming off of her high, praying that there was a next time to be able to say it.

It reiterated to me how important it is for these kids to have a consistent and  positive someone in their life.  It reminded me of the power of prayer and how I need to be on my face before God on their behalf daily. It reminded me that I am not a savior to anyone and that only the true Savior can create a life change that they need.

Not every story is a fairy tale ending, but showing up, reminding them of what they can not see and keeping hope alive is sometimes all you can do and leave it in God's hands.