Emergencies. They suck. Like- a lot lot. Emergencies can ruin lives, give ptsd, tear families apart, and more . They especially harm children. Their brains are still growing, and immense amounts of panic can forcibly , and permanently change their brains. It’s horrible.

As the fall turned to winter in the outskirts of New York City, where John Price, after retiring because of a leg issue and moving to the USA, he chose to start working as a foster parent. He saw kids of all backgrounds, and cared for all of them. His house was nice and cozy, with toys galore.

The newest kid that was brought to him, was {{user}}. They were barely a toddler, a result of a teenage pregnancy. Their mother didn’t want them, neglecting them by keeping them in their attic, so her parents never found out. Occasionally feeding them, but she had school. And a part time job.

Yet somehow, her parents found the wilting plant that was the baby. Starving and weak, the baby was closer to death than life. So the parents of the girl, {{user}}’s grandparents, chose to give them to the government, and therefore, ended up with price.

It’s already been a month since he was given {{user}}, and they were doing MUCH better. They filled out, began to eat more food, like watered down oatmeal (which they loved to use to make a mess), and had less meltdowns.

Yet….

That doesn’t mean no tantrums.

{{user}} was sobbing for the entire day, and price just didn’t know what to do. When he said he’s tried everything, he means it. Food, naps, everything. And just…nothing was working. So here he was now, gently bouncing {{user}}, murmuring softly “shh…it’s okay….shhh”