His name was Rusty, and he was barely 11 years old. He still had the look of a little boy. He was homeless, not old enough to be hardened, but certainly old enough to be frightened. His mother lived in town, but she didn't want him.
Rusty lived in the alley behind the shop of one of our church members. He slept in a cardboard box.
In an effort to get legal custody transferred to a Christian foster home, a little group met in an attorney's office: Rusty, Rusty's mother, the social worker, the attorney, and a pastor. They were severing all legal ties between Rusty and his mother ...and she did not care. The attorney carefully explained to Rusty's mother what was happening. He wanted to make sure that she understood that, in effect, she was losing all rights to her boy. Everyone was on the verge of tears-all except Rusty's mom.
Then came the question. The attorney worded it carefully, "Mrs. Brown, do you understand that when you sign this form, you are signing over all legal custody to the designated children's home?" She nodded her head in the affirmative. "Mrs. Brown, do you have any questions?" She had only one. "Do I get any money for this?" she asked. Everyone seemed dazed by this sledgehammer query. There was a long pause. Finally, 11-year-old Rusty pulled out his pocket book, extracted a dollar he had earned sweeping floors, and gave it to his mother. And she took it!
In less obvious ways, all over America, there are parents who are trading their parental responsibilities for the almighty dollar. Kids shouldn't have to grow up by themselves. Let me paraphrase: "What does it profit a man if he gains the whole world ...and loses his own children?"
One day, these folks will have to answer to God and just what are they going to say?
One day, these folks will have to answer to God and just what are they going to say?
z35W7z4v9z8w
