One night making the long drive home
after working with another damaged child.
My mobile rang. Denver’s voice:
“Hi can I ask you a question?”
“OK Denver you know you can.
What do you want to ask me?”
“Can I have a blood transfusion?
I don’t want my blood anymore”.
I asked why not. Denver replied
“She told me my dad isn’t my dad
and when the Court test my blood
it’ll prove my dad isn’t my dad.
So if I get my blood taken out
and put my dad’s blood in me
they won’t take me away from him”.
Denver was 9 years old
living with her sister and father.
They were asleep when her mother
broke into the house during
one wild drunken rampage
and killed all the children’s pets.
“My dad’s not my real dad
but he is my dad
he’s been there always.
He’s the only one I’ve known
If I have his blood
They won’t take me away.”
She sighed when I told her
I won’t let them take you away.
There is a poverty of the heart.