My Face and My Truck

It just occurred to me maybe why I do this job.  There is a little girl (not so little now) that I have removed many, many times from a God awful horrible situation. I just remembered every time I finally located her and her reaction when she saw me.  The big hugs, the joy and relief on her face.  The tears and ear piercing wails when I was forced by the Court to return her to the abuse.  That was only 1 time.  But that is not the point, the point is I remember her face, tears and those big, big hugs.  And she remembers me. That is why I do my job.  For little girls like that, for the ability after many tears to finally keep them safe and to be the person that shows up at that little girl's school again and she knows that means some one heard she wasn't safe, told me and I was there to keep her safe.  Everyone is replaceable, I know that, but to be able to be the consistent person who protects her and finally gives her her family and for it not to be a different SW each time, that means a lot.  It means a lot that to me that if even for all those years I could not keep her from being hurt I could be the same person who arrived at her school to take her somewhere safe.  To have her through the years remember me, my name and my truck.  To have her ask me why I'm driving a different car, not the truck.  At least to that one little girl it can be the same social worker, not a different one.  I've been her worker for six years & have been in the same truck every time I arrived at that school or gas station, except once.  And she remember that.  So, if all I can do is be the same face & same person & receive those hugs & take her to safety then it is worth it.