The little girl emerging from the car was tall for her seven years, bedraggled and rail thin. Straight, sandy brown hair hung down over her shoulders, framing a pale but pretty face with big green eyes. Her jeans were tight at the waist and three inches short of her bony ankles, where tattered canvas sneakers, one with flopping sole, showed the best she had to wear was last summer’s clothes. Her mother had not been able to care for her, her father refused, and so she remained in the foster care system. This would be her sixth foster home in less than a year and she looked exhausted.
There was a glint of defiance in her eyes, a symptom of the smoldering resentment buried deep in her heart. The anger resulted in volatile behavior that could erupt at the slightest provocation. None of the five previous homes had been able to cope with the behaviors arising from her tortured past, and thus her painful journey continued.