Hope For Anna

Written by Mollie Mercer Hewett

I retired from the school system August 2006.  I had so many reasons not to retire and at the same time I wanted to have some  time alone writing short stories of events that have, to me, been very interesting. “Hope for Anna” is just one of my stories that I have thoroughly enjoyed writing and sharing with you.

 At the beginning of the 1998-1999 school year, I was transferred from the Superintendent’s Office to become an elementary school secretary. The school included over five hundred students, most from socio-economically deprived families living in a very large housing project. To say I went gladly is far from the truth. I had worked as a central office secretary for over thirteen years.  I knew my job well.  I had always received good yearly evaluations as well as merit raises from my supervisors.

I prayed, “Lord, why me?  I just don’t understand. It’s not fair,” I moaned.  My thoughts were that I thought that I was all set to coast into retirement soon and I simply did not want to learn a new job. Most of all I did not want to be bothered with elementary age school children, especially those who are at the bottom of everything.  I was aware that there was a big turnover in personnel at this particular school.  At a meeting with the Superintendent I was told that the decision to move me was final and had been approved by the Board of Education.  I prayed for the grace to accept what I could not change.  With tears in my eyes, I cleaned out my desk and moved to the elementary school in the south side of the railroad tracks.

One morning after the second bell rang; I decided to walk the halls to familiarize myself with the names of the teachers and their room numbers.  As I stood in the doorway of room 34, Mrs. Harrell’s fifth grade classroom, I saw the usual excited, giggly, expectant faces of youth, except for one girl who had taken a desk in the very back of the room. Her hair was stringy and hung over her eyes. Not that I could see her eyes, because she was staring down at the top of her desk.  Her clothes looked dingy and the blouse she was wearing was at least two sizes too large for her small frame. (Something) It struck me that perhaps she had previously done poorly and now hated school.  I got the feeling that she was troubled far beyond her eleven years.  I imagined that she might be a victim of neglect or perhaps even abuse.

A student who was late walked into the room and I moved quickly down the hall, making notes. By the middle of the week I began to realize just how demanding a school secretary’s job was.  One student after the other  was sent to the office with a note from the teacher  with various requests: please call this child’s parent, or check this child for pink eye or head lice, or this one has the ear ache, or this child needs a Band-Aid on a cut that is days old and has become infected.  My “clerical duties” now included being the school nurse.  At times it was overwhelming to say the least.

Then in walked Anna, the fifth grade student from Ms. Harrell’s class. She said she was sick and wanted to call her great-grand mother.  I checked her temperature. She did not have a fever. I tried to encourage her to go back to class; I explained to her that if she missed a lesson, it could cause her to do poorly on a test in that subject.    She insisted she was sick.  I make the phone call and in a few minutes a taxi arrived.  This pattern went on two or three times a week.  Somehow I knew she was not physically sick.  I prayed, “Lord, help me to help and understand this child.” The fourth week of school a lady from the Family and Children’s Services (DFACS) came in to speak with Anna.  I left my office so the conference could occur privately.  When the talk was over, I asked the DFACS representative what was going on with this child.  She said, “Her father is in jail and her mother lives in a car on the road; she’s a drug addict. Her great-grandmother is eighty-three years old and right now she is all this child has.”

I got permission from my principal to talk to Anna a couple of times per week.  I put a note in Ms. Harrell’s mailbox asking her to allow Anna to visit with me at a convenient non-instructional time.  The first time she walked in the office, her shoulders were slumped, and she held her head downward. I gave her a big hug and had her sit in a chair beside me. Eager to get her to smile, I began to ask her questions.  “What’s your favorite food? Do you like the country? How would you like to spend a weekend with me?”

That Friday Anna brought her over-night bag with her to school and left it with me in my office.  It was a Wal-Mart shopping bag, and in it she brought a much worn large ladies slip that had yellowed with age, a toothbrush, a pair of dingy jeans, and a pair of worn-out tennis shoes. 

Anna was so excited that I had taken her “under my wing” her eyes lit up and I could tell her countenance was beginning to take on a new meaning. When we arrived at my house, I tried to make Anna feel very special.  I took her to the guest bedroom and she sat down in the chair and said “Is this where I will sleep?”   I asked her if she liked the room and she smiled and said, “It’s so cool”. 

When my husband got home from work we decided to take Anna out to dinner; her choice this time.   I named three places that are known to be excellent places to eat and one was the Pizza Hut.  She had no hesitation in choosing the Pizza Hut as her preference.  Anna loved Pizza.

Anna seemed anxious to get back home after we stuffed ourselves with Pizza. She wanted to take a bubble bath as soon as we arrived home. I lit several scented candles and asked Anna to make certain she did not place any item of clothing close to the burning candles.  I told her that I lit them because she was a very special young lady and that I was happy to have her as my guest.  She smiled and said she had never had a bubble bath with scented candles before.  After her bath I blow-dried her hair and put a few hair curlers in it so as to give her very straight hair a little bounce. It certainly complimented the smile and youth of an eleven year old child.  She also used the bath powder very liberally.  Anna seemed to be a typical teen-ager but was very appreciative of all the attention. She never failed to say “thank you” and she certainly had a desire to hug and be hugged.

My husband and I have a Golden Retriever dog called Money.  Anna fell in love with Money at first sight. Golden Retriever dogs love people and especially children.  Anna would throw Money’s rubber bone and he’d run to get it and bring it back to her.  She would run with it and he’d chase her. Round and round they’d go playing and running.  I told Anna that Money loved to be brushed and she busied herself with him brushing and playing for hours.   

After several week-ends with Anna I saw many positive changes in her attitude and her school work.  She took on a completely different look as well. With a visit to the beautician and a very nice hair cut Anna held her head up and did not slump her shoulders over as she did the first time I saw her.

And Anna loves to shop for bargains in clothing stores. She certainly had a typical teen agers taste for “cool” clothing.    I monitored her progress with her teacher.   She made the honor roll every six weeks as long as she was a student at the elementary school where I worked.  In order to challenge her to keep up her grades, her visits to our home became a time for celebration.   

I tried to give Anna hope and tried to teach her to spend money wisely.  I urged her to set goals and to try to make wise choices in all that she does.  I encouraged her to be all that she could be and to always listen to her heart. I reminded her that she holds the key to her future and that she does not have to follow the life4 style of her parents.   I tried my best to help her see that her parents simply made unwise choices.  We always talked openly about them. We prayed for them and I encouraged her to write to her dad even though he was in jail.  Once she wrote to him that she had found a “Grandma Friend” and that she was doing very well in school.

Anna went to Sunday School and Church with my husband and me. It seemed with every visit she became more and more relaxed and was very fond of books especially Louisa May Alcott’s “Little Women” and “The Summer of the Monkey’s by Wilson Rawls.

Was Anna the only deprived child at my school or in this city? Heavens no!   Could I have helped them all?  Certainly not. But I can say that I have helped one.  As soon as Anna began spending week-ends with us, she stopped coming to the office complaining that she was sick.  But she would come by the office, smiling a beautiful smile, waving her hand and yelling out, “I love you, my Grandma Friend.” And by the way,  the more involved I got with Anna I stopped asking God why I was transferred to that particular school located in the slums of this southern  town . Now I realize without a doubt it was to help Anna and the many others like her.

POSTCRIPT

Anna’s great-grand mother died two weeks after school was out my second year of working at the school.  My husband and I  cared deeply for Anna and stood by her during the brief illness, death and services of her great-grand mother.  I was told by the Family and Children services that Anna was going to be moving to Florida to live with a relative.  I did not hear from Anna after her great-grand mother’s funeral. Although I had tried to contact her several times I never received a reply.  I thank God I was given the opportunity to perhaps have a positive influence in the life of one very deprived child, Anna.   As well as many other precious children at this public school here in the state of Georgia. I learned that both girls and boys of all races have a deep desire to be loved.  But circumstances beyond their control deprive them of the very thing that will help them grow up to become responsible citizens of our society:  A simple four letter word called LOVE. 

So many of our precious children, will no doubt get lost in the shuffle, unless more of us adults volunteer to help them. There are so many deprived children in all schools through out America.  And money is not always the answer. I’ll bet there are some in your school district too. 

Abraham Lincoln wrote: “I know no great men except those who have rendered service to the human race.” Accordingly, let us render kindness and hope to the hurting. After all we were made for that purpose!