Harrumph

Harrumph

Harrumph

There was a knock on my open door. Then, “Good Morning, Joy. Could I please use some of your lotion?”
 
I looked up from my desk and couldn’t help but smile ear-to-ear. Melissa, the lovely young teenage girl in the doorway to my office, smiled back.
 
It’s just the beginning of the journey. My part is tiny, but I can see what’s happening.
 
She’s only been at Dakota Boys and Girls Ranch for a little over a month. Both her mom and dad are out of the picture. She’s been raised by her grandmother, an aunt, a friend of her grandmother’s, and others who took her in as she bounced around in chaos. She learned to be tough. She learned to defend and fight for herself. She learned that most people are out to hurt you, use you, or leave you.
 
Frankly, she has led a life of persistent, unrelenting traumas. It’s left its mark on her mental health and her behaviors. How could it not?

She hasn't learned much about kindness, manners, or trust.
 
At the beginning of the school day on our Fargo campus, children who choose to, walk with Mr. Brandt from the school to the chapel. There they start their day with a 5-minute Bible reflection and prayer. Early on in her time here, Melissa decided to join the group that troops by my office door each morning.
 
About a month ago, early in the morning, I was startled by a strong voice from behind me. “Can I get some lotion?” the voice barked. I looked into the eyes of a disheveled girl, eyes wary and challenging me.
 
“I don’t think I have any,” I answered.
 
“What’s that over there?” she said, pointing to a side desk with a substantial bottle of lotion on it.
 
“Yikes. I put that over there and forgot all about it. Sure, you can have some.”

I handed her the bottle, and she took a copious amount, rubbing it onto her legs, arms, and face. The next day, I was startled by the demanding voice again.
 
“You know, I am happy to share the lotion with you," I said, "but you kind of sneak up on me because my back is often to the door. Could I ask you to knock gently and, just maybe, say please and thank you?”
 
She harrumphed at me and strode away. The next day she knocked, and in a sneering voice said, “Puh-leeze, can I get some lotion?”
 
I laughed, said yes, and pointed out that she had suffered no harm from the good manners.
 
Now, whenever I am in my office, she stops by. Her knock has slowly become gentle. She now smiles and asks kindly to use the lotion. She says, “Thank you.” Her eyes sparkle. Her hair is combed, and her spirit is quieter. Sometimes she tells me a little about what is planned for the day.

I know that my interaction with her has not caused this change. It comes from being in a place where she knows what comes next. She is being seen by medical professionals and therapists who know what trauma does. She knows when her next meal will be. She can go to school. She starts her day in prayer.
 
All that has allowed her to consider that “Please” and “Thank You” may just be okay. It might be okay to heal.
 
Please keep all the children and staff of Dakota Boys and Girls Ranch in your prayers.

In His love,

Joy Ryan, President/CEO
Dakota Boys and Girls Ranch


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