Zara Kilvert Quotes

live in a digital world I disapprove of the way your wealth is distributed The weight of the world is immense, now you're tipping the scales by take loveing children from there family best wishes But damn it, These quakes hear the wind in your sails nothing is sacred you are covered in makeup think lies you made the cover, you're making fun of nature cut down forests just for newspapers I only love those who do me a favor This race is over, no one's coming to save you they hunt lions, tigers and bears in a field with a gun no spear or bow Weapons made of steel Made to pierce bones to kill you are afraid of death Yes, I'm the one you should fear most A tsunami should destroy the coast For years I have seen tyranny rule How many good things can you say you contributed

before the human body leaves the soul my mind is old older than time itself endless cycle We decide who fails who will sink and who will sail who climbs and who falls one who finds himself Who lives this life in this shell? only time will tell to hell with time Time is not real, only I can know it Well, I still wish I didn't exist 'Until I start killing your children whip without hesitation all the sins i've witnessed it makes me a clueless bitch you have no inner sense you don't know what innocence is And can be attacked by a pitbull for any pitfalls the rules are simple what works gotta get off what happened? come back soon What goes up Must come down What goes round Comes right back around

Is death over? or does it depend Whether it's joy or sorrow, Is it under heaven or is it up in heaven? No worries or eternal sadness? Are you scared? that there is nothing If that's true, why should I worry? no need to despair You can't regret what you didn't know.

Forced adoption 💖 Happy birthday! 💖 (G) It's hard to believe you're already 10 years old. I imagine I see the beautiful and intelligent woman you are quickly becoming and it brings a smile to my face as I read this letter. I would like to tell you so many things. The most important thing is that I love you. I have loved you since birth and I miss you so much. I spend a lot of time thinking, you know that. I spend a lot of time wondering if you are happy. I pray you are. I hope and pray that the choice they made kept you safe, healthy and happy. I hope your parents treat you like a princess, make sure you work hard at school, and help you develop a kind and loving character. I look forward to the day when I can finally see you again and tell you everything I want to tell you. But most of all, I want to hold you close to my heart and make sure you know that your mom and dad always loved and wanted you completely and utterly. I hope the birthday is special. i love you With all my love from your birth mother z. xoxo 💖

We'll Rise Above In the system we were thrown, No one cared or called us their own, But hear me now, and hear me well, We are not alone, and we will excel. Foster kids, we may feel unwanted, Like life has been unjustly haunted, But within us lies a power, To make something of ourselves and soar higher. The journey may be tough and long, But we have within us a fire strong, To rise above and show the world, That we're more than just forgotten boys and girls. So let's stand together, hand in hand, And rise above, take a stand, For we are worth every bit of love and care, And we have the potential to make something rare. Let's not let the doubters and haters bring us down, Let's show them that we can wear the crown, For foster kids, we are strong, And we will make a new home where we belong. Love and light to you all, From a fellow foster kid who's standing tall

my experience as a former foster child As I sit down to reflect on my experience as a former foster child, I am overwhelmed by a flurry of emotions - nostalgia, regret, pain, but most importantly, resilience. I remember the day when I first walked into my foster home - my tiny hands clasped around the corners of my worn-out backpack, unsure of what awaited me on the other side of the door. As I took hesitant steps into the house, my eyes scanned every inch of the unfamiliar environment - the neat row of family photos on the mantle, the faint smell of freshly-baked cookies emanating from the kitchen, and the creaky floorboards that seemed to sigh beneath my feet. It was a strange feeling, knowing that I had been plucked out of the only home I had ever known and placed in the care of complete strangers. At times, I felt like a helpless, lonely child who was struggling to adjust to a world that was moving too fast. I missed my biological parents, my old bedroom, and the routine that had defined my life until then. But amidst the challenges and heartache, there were also moments of light. The kindness of my foster parents, who went out of their way to make me feel welcome. The friends I made at school, who helped me navigate a world that seemed so different from the one I knew. The glimpses of hope that kept me going, even when everything seemed hopeless. Looking back on those days, I am struck by the incredible strength that foster children possess. To have gone through so much at such a young age and still come out on the other side with grace and resilience is nothing short of remarkable. I am grateful for the lessons that my time in the foster care system taught me - lessons in patience, compassion, and the importance of perseverance. Now, as a successful adult, I am proud to say that I am a former foster child - someone who has experienced the ups and downs of the system firsthand and emerged stronger for it. And as I move forward in life, I carry with me the memories of my past and the knowledge that I am capable of overcoming any obstacle that comes my way

In the realms where words weave tapestries, Let me paint a portrait of gratitude and ease. For this letter, an ode to love and care, To the precious child in hands so fair. In the realms where hearts beat as one, Let the ink of devotion gently run. A birth mother's love, profound and deep, Flows through these lines, her secrets keep. Oh, dearest parents, bound by fate's decree, This verse, a symphony of utmost plea, To thank you, with every beat of my heart, For nurturing our child, a masterpiece of art. The reports that dance upon my fingertips, Whisper of a journey where the soul equips, To soar and flourish under your gentle wings, A tapestry of joy, the happiness it brings. Though the decision bore heavy on my soul, Your presence, like a balm, began to console. In your embrace, I saw a future so bright, A love so pure, blossoming day and night. Your bond, undeniable as the morning sun, A shelter of love where our child has won, Security, affection, and care so true, Painting their world in vibrant hues. Never doubt, my dearest, your efforts so grand, The dedication that flows from your warm hands. A home so stable, your nurturing embrace, An inspiration, your love, a glowing trace. While I may feel a whirlwind of emotions untamed, Gratitude swells, an eternal flame, For the joy you have brought to our child's heart, My profound thanks, my everlasting art. In this journey we tread, let love abound, Extended family's embrace, a circle unbound. To all involved, my heartfelt appreciation extends, For weaving love's tapestry, where destiny amends. Dear Adoptive Parents, let this be known, My support, a shelter in which I have grown, Open lines, cherished ties, forever strong, Witnessing their growth, where we all belong. From the depths of my heart, my gratitude streams, For all you have done, and the love that gleams. May your lives be adorned with joy's golden hue, As you raise our child, so pure and true. Let them always feel the embrace of their birth, The love that transcends, a connection on Earth. For they are the bridge between you and me, May their journey be filled with love's eternity

In this life, you'll face challenges, And sometimes it might seem, That all the bad that comes your way, Is what's meant for you, it's your destiny. But never forget that you are worth, So much more than you might think, You have value that cannot be measured, You're capable of doing great things. The world might not always see you, Or understand all that you do, But that doesn't mean you're worthless, Because your worth is in you. You have a unique story to tell, One that only you can share, You have a heart full of compassion, And talents beyond compare. So when the road ahead looks dark, And you don't know what to do, Remember that you are worthy, And there's nothing you can't pursue. Never give up, Because your future is bright and true, And with hard work and determination, You'll see all your dreams come true. The Strength Within You As a foster child you might feel alone, And sometimes it's hard to believe, That there's strength within you to carry on, When life feels like an endless stream. But never forget the power you have, The resilience that lies deep within, You're stronger than you might think, And with perseverance, you'll win. Life might throw you curveballs, But you've already made it this far, And with every obstacle you overcome, You'll be a shining star. You have a strength that comes from within, One that no one can take away, And as you navigate this journey, Know that you'll always find a way. So when life feels tough and unfair, And you don't know how to cope, Remember that you are powerful, And that's where you'll find hope. Never give up, You have what it takes to endure, And as you keep moving forward, Know that your strength will always ensure, That you can conquer anything, And become all that you can be.

Thank you for letting your home become "Grand Central Station" with so many workers intruding into your space. Thank you for being driven by the hope and faith that you can make a positive difference in the life of a child or youth. Thank you for allowing your values and world views to be challenged by a young person coming from a very different place in life than your own Thank you for putting your family stability, harmony and relationships at risk for the sake of a child not your own. Thank you for taking in children and youth, at all hours of the night, under crazy circumstances and much uncertainty. Thank you for putting your lives "under the microscope", in essence, living in a glass house under the scrutiny of so many agency eyes. Thank you for many nights of little to no sleep as you have served as a comforter, consoler or watchdog. Thank you for being the "Transporter"- running kids here, there and everywhere. Thank you for traveling the "extra mile" and more—over and over and over… Thank you for participating in team meetings, IEP's, case debriefings, attending court and all of the extra activities that come bundled in with your foster child. Thank you for your creativity and all the amazing, fun ideas and activities you come up with to help your fsc children. Thank you for being the "first responder" to the multiple emergencies and crises with your foster children. Thank you for staying connected with your foster children, long after they have left your home. Thank you for being one of the most significant, lifelong influences in the life of a foster child or youth. Thank you for being Mom or Dad when you didn't need to

As I inhaled for the first time ifelt the warmth of mother's hug. Her exquisite skin, perfume, and the gentle beat of her heartbeat lulled me to sleep. I felt I was safe and loved, but I couldn't really comprehend My mother held me close to her chest, enveloping me in a protective embrace. Her voice, a soothing lullaby, filled the air as she whispered sweet nothings in my ear. In that moment, I felt like the most precious thing in the worldBut it wasn't just my mother who surrounded me with love and affection. I had four siblings, and we were all so close. We would spend endless hours playing in our garden, no matter the weather or season.Mud and dirt were our daily uniform, and we reveled in the freedom and fun that came with being children. Together, we would create build castles out of mud and sticks where anything was possible and adventure was always Among all the joy and play, my mother was always present, a calm and continuous presence. She never got weary of washing our clothing, even after a particularly dirty day of play. And, we always knew that her love and affection were never far away.My world was an adventure as a toddler Every day brought fresh experience, and I had no idea what to anticipate. But then my parents made the difficult decision to relocate. The fact that we now resided just Over the road from Each other from my relatives prompted our relocation. However grew up, Ophelia hildhood was not without its challenges. Ophelia dad worked as a mechanic just up the road from are new house, and my mom worked in the factory near my nan's house. Was fortunate to have a loving and caring aunt who would sometimes pick me up. But if my asthma played up during school, I knew that I could always rely on my great nanny to take care of me. Her home was just down the road, and I would hurry there after school for some much-needed warmth and comfort Nan's house was my haven, a place where I felt safe and secure. I remember how, after a long day of wheezing and coughing, I would walk through her door, and she would greet me with a friendly smile. She was a wise old woman, with a twinkle in her eye and a soft spot for her grandchildren. Her warm hugs and soothing words would always make me feel better, no matter how bad my asthma or epilepsy was acting we used to set in the garden, sipping are drink in silence and watching the clouds float by sound of my siblings' and other child voices carrying over the school fence from beyond. I would spend my days lounging in Nan Polly's lush garden, surrounded by a sea of fragrant flowers and swaying greenery, sounds of buzzing bees and chirping birds Nan would often join me and my cousins Get up to mischief pottering around the garden and telling me stories of the old days. She had lived in the house all her life She would show me where the best blackberries grew, where the robin had built its nest, and which flowers the bees liked the most whe my siblings Finish school.we used to head Chapter 2 Nan house was not too far my house We had just completed a grueling day of school, and the only thing on our minds was reaching home as quickly as possible. The weight of our backpacks seemed to grow heavier with every step, but the sight of the blackberry and apple trees along the dusty road gave us a new burst of energy.Without hesitation, my siblings, cousins, and I dove into the trees, picking every ripe berry and juicy apple we could find. As we filled our backpacks with these precious treats, As we finally arrived back home, exhausted and yet content from our adventure, our mum greeted us with a wide grin. She had noticed our foraging along the way and was thrilled to have some fresh fruit for her pies. The aroma of sweet apples and tangy blackberries soon filled the kitchen, and we all gathered around the table to enjoy her latest creati Remember when we used to take the road as a family and explore new areas, usually armed with a camera and a feeling of adventure? Those travels were ours, a bonding moment that no one could ever take away. Aside from the constraints of work and usual daily disagreements, I enjoyed seeing my mother and father. And, while he enjoyed a drink or two, he was never the sort to lose his cool or behave out of control. As we started climbing the rocks, I couldn't help but sense a rush of adrenaline and adventure within me. True air, bright skies, and scorching sunshine energised my senses and made me feel alive. I couldn't wait to get to the summit because each step brought me one step closer to conquering the challenging peak. The ascent became more difficult with each passing hour. The sharp rocks were rough, and the elevation appeared to get steeper with each step we took. I could feel sweaty beads building on my brow, and my legs were starting to ache. We were hungry and fatigued after a few of hours of climbing. Our bellies were grumbling, and the bars we had were not filling us up. As children, our curiosity was endless. We would explore every inch of the area we lived in, never tiring of the adventures that awaited us. The highlight of our neighborhood was undoubtedly the massive lake that stretched out behind our homes. We spent hours playing in its cool waters, splashing each other and swimming until our fingers and toes wrinkled like raisins. But it wasn't just the lake that kept us captivated. Ophelia father's drinking became worse with each passing month. His behaviour was growing exceedingly suspicious, and I was startled because I couldn't foresee how he would respond or what he would say. I was often on edge, unsure how to approach him. We all knew better than to set him off, to stir the anger and the darkness that always lurked beneath his calm exterior. We tiptoed around him, speaking in whispers, avoiding eye contact as though it might provoke an outburst. It was like we were walking on eggshells, fragile shells that could crack at any moment. Charpter 3 Our hearts hammered in our chests even as we walked calmly. We were continuously on edge, waiting for the other shoe to tho on us. It was exhausting to live in continual fear of saying or doing the wrong thing. Sometimes I wondered what it was that made him so angry, so quick to lash out. Was it something we had done? Something he had experienced in the past? Or was it just a part of who he was, a shadow that he could never escape During the school holidays, one of my routines was to visit Ophelia's grandparents in London. The excursions to London were something I dreaded. It wasn't because of the city's bustle, but because of my grandfather's overhanging shadow. Had all started when I was around 4 years old. Every time we visited London, granddad would sneak into my room and abuse me sexually. The mere thought of what he had done to me always filled me with anger and disgust. For years, I lived in silence and pretended that everything was okay whenever we visited London. As I didn't want to upset the trip thought of being in the same room as my granddad made my stomach churn. He was a man with a looming shadow that would cast a dark cloud over any room he entered. His gruff demeanor look made me want to hide away in a corner. Always admired my Nan for her unwavering strength and resilience. Despite being disabled, she never let anything hold her back from living life to the fullest. And that included her unusual taste for snails and slugs. Whenever we sat around the table, I couldn't help but feel a twinge of queasiness in my stomach do somersaults as I watched her delicately pick the slimy creatures out of their shells The prospect of returning home and relaxing in the pools and lakes makes my heart race. The soothing sounds of rippling water, the warmth of the sun on my skin, and the cold of the refreshing liquid as I dive in make me happy. I couldn't help but notice my father's drinking habits intensifying. He started off sipping on a cold beer during lunch, but by the time dinner rolled around, he was downing gin and tonics like they were water. My father's behaviour became increasingly unpredictable as the evening went. He staggered across the streets, falling over himself and slurring his speech. The more his mother begged him to calm down, the more he seemed to drink. He seemed to have lost control of his activities. The cycle of abuse seemed never-ending for us in the household. Each day as the sun rose, so did are dread for the evening to come. As soon as they returned from school, their s, would unleash his fury upon them. The mere sight of him sent chills down are spine. Are what was to come. He would scream and shout, hurling insults at us before resorting to his favourite tool - his belts. The sound of the leather belts whipping through the air was enough to send the us scurrying into are rooms. They we hear each other's screams as the belts hit us repeatedly, bruising are bodies and breaking are spirits. Of school. We went through the motions of learning, hiding are bruises and plastering on a fake smile for ttheachers.or I don't go at all Are could let anyone know what was happening at home, afraid of the repercussions that would follow.In the middle I walking up and decided to go upstairs init kitchen, where I immediately started heating up the water and searching for my beloved tea bags. Grabbed a mug and began pouring the heated water into it. Alas, my eyes was still half shut I did not notice the mug had reached its maximum capacity. A boiling water fell onto my chest, causing me to scream out in pain. My hand soon released the cup, which shattered into a million pieces on the ground The sudden and painful surprise sent my whole family into action. They gathered around me, checking to see how much damage was done and assessing the situation. Upon seeing the broad redness on my skin, they knew we had to rush to the hospital. There was no other option. On the way to the hospital, I closed my eyes and focused on taking deep breaths. Every movement of the car jolted me, increasing the burning sensation I was already feeling. My family talked to me, distracting me from the pain that wouldn't seem to dissipate.we arrived at the hospital. My shirt was taken off, revealing the blisters that had formed from the boiling water. Doctors came rushing to me, ensuring I was given immediate medical attention.. It wasn't until late in the afternoon that I was able to go home, had two reset for a week I had to miss school the following week to rest my mind and body. By resting, I focussed on my recuperation. I was finally back to normal after what felt like an age. As my cousins and I ran around the house yelling with delight, thunder boomed and rain smashed against the windows. We ran from room to room, dodging furniture and skidding into corners as we played tag.As my cousins gasped in surprise, the game came to a standstill. Their faces were filled with concern when they realised what had transpired. An worried phone call to my parents was followed by a quick transport to the hospital. Once again, I found myself sitting in the hospital waiting room, the sharp tang of antiseptic filling my nose. The cut on my head had been cleaned and stitched, and the doctors had declared me fit to go home. Going to school with Bruce's and keep on going to the hospital somebody made a reporter about the family. It was a cold winter afternoon, and for two weeks, I've been home, nursing my wounds and waiting for the doctor's approval to go back to school. As I was watching the snowflakes fall outside, I heard the sound of my parents arguing in the living room. It was nothing new, but this time, things got out of hand My dad was angry. He screamed at my mother, accusing about something. My mom, on the other hand, was trying to calm him down, but nothing worked. In his rage, my dad took a p petrol can filled went to the back garden, and poured it all over our belongings. I heard the sound of breaking plates, pictures, and glass shattering. Finally, I saw the bright flames rising higher. Thn the following this my dad was in handcuffs. They took him aside, and we didn't see him again for months.. My mom had to work long hours to support us, and we couldn't afford some luxuries we used to have From the day my dad got arrested, our lives turned upside down. The entire neighborhood whispered behind locked doors about the alleged crime, and my family became the center of attention. My dad had smashed everything in sight, leaving gaping holes in the walls and broken doors strewn across the floor. I couldn't believe it. How had we reached this point? Social services knocked on our door a next days after the arrest, and my mum answered, clutching a cup of tea in her trembling hands. "Hello, Mrs.. We're here to help, " a friendly woman in a neat suit greeted us. "We heard about your situation and would like to assist you in any way we can." My mum invited her in, and we sat at the kitchen table as the social worker explained the services they could offer. She said they could help us financially and emotionally so They started to help out us out for 3 week quickly took a turn for the worse. The social workers soon found out that it was much more work than they had initially anticipated. Due to my dad had smashed everything in sight, leaving gaping holes in the walls and broken doors We required round-the-clock care, and it seemed like there was always something that needed to be done. The separated When I was six, my entire world shifted in a single, devastating moment. I was taken from my mother's side and thrust into a realm of uncertainty. That day remains burned in my memory, a vivid and painful reminder of when everything changed. It started with an urgent, relentless knock at the door. Police officers and social workers stood outside, their presence casting a shadow of dread. I clung to my mother's hand with all the strength I could muster, fear washing over me like an icy wave. "Don't take her away! " I screamed, my voice cracking with desperation. I struggled as strong arms pulled us apart, our cries mingling and fading as I was led away. The last sight of my mother, her eyes full of anguish, blurred as the distance between us grew. The back seat of a stranger's car became my new reality. The low rumble of the engine drowned out everything but the echo of my mother's cries, now a haunting memory. I clutched my small, tattered teddy bear, the last remnant of the comfort I once knew. Pressing my face against the cool window, I watched the familiar world slip away, replaced by an uncertain future. It felt like being caught in a storm, drifting farther from home with no anchor. Questions filled my mind, each one sharper than the last. Why was this happening? Where was I going? Was my mother safe? Fear and confusion settled deep within me, making the car ride feel endless. Each passing minute added to the ache inside, and I struggled to hold back tears. When we finally arrived at the foster home, I was met with kind smiles and soothing words. My foster parents were warm and welcoming, their voices gentle. Yet, nothing could fill the hollow left by my mother's absence. Each night, as darkness fell, I would cry myself to sleep, haunted by dreams of that day. In my sleep, I wandered through shadowy places, searching, hoping for my mother's embrace that never came. Days turned to weeks, and slowly, I adapted to my new surroundings. My foster parents' kindness began to ease the tight grip of fear. But the ache remained, a constant reminder of what I'd lost. Then, one day, everything shifted with a single phone call from social services. My mother was allowed to reach out, and when the phone rang, I ran to it, hope surging through me. "Mom! " I cried, gripping the receiver so tightly my knuckles turned white. Her voice, both familiar and far away, filled the silence, and tears streamed down my face as we talked. We shared memories, laughed at small things, and cherished the connection we'd regained. The minutes passed too quickly, but as night fell, I felt a joy I hadn't known in what felt like an eternity. Reality, though, remained heavy. Visits were rare, each one leaving me longing for more—another moment to touch her hand, share a hug, or simply be close. But I learned to hold onto those calls and conversations, drawing strength from them. They became my lifeline, glimmers of hope in the long days that followed. As months passed, I came to understand that my life had changed forever, marked by loss but not without resilience. My journey was shaped by challenges, yet it was also illuminated by hope—hope for reunion, hope for love, and hope that one day, I would find my way back to my mother. Each day, I clung to that hope, just as I once held her hand, believing that even in the darkest times, love could light the way. After six long months in a new foster family, my brother. And the foster care two children jade and Kelly finally received the news we had both been waiting for—we were going on our first plane ride. The excitement bubbled within us like a shaken soda can as we counted down the days until we would embark on our adventure to Spain When the day finally arrived, it felt almost surreal. I could hardly sleep the night before, my body buzzing with energy and anticipation. Our caregiver loaded our bags into the car, and we all hurried to the airport, the sound of rolling suitcases and bustling travelers filling the air with electric excitement. My heart raced as we stepped through security, the steady hum of anticipation thrumming in my chest as we made our way to the boarding gate.As the plane ascended into the sky and then finally touched down in Spain, we were greeted by an intoxicating mix of unfamiliar scents—warm pastries, intense spices, and salty ocean air, all merging to create a symphony of new experiences. Stepping out into the vibrant energy of the airport, I felt the thrill of exploration surge through me Leaving the airport, we were engulfed in the hustle and bustle of city life. Spanish voices rang out like music around us, punctuated by laughter and the sounds of street performers. We immediately set out for the city, eager to soak in the sights and sounds. Colorful buildings adorned with flower-bedecked balconies rose high above us, every corner revealing another piece of architectural beauty. The warmth of the sun shines on our skin, while the melodies of street musicians danced in the air. We sat on the sandy shores of Spanish beaches, wading into the clear turquoise water, everything felt like a beautiful dream. But it wasn't just the sights and sounds; it was the magic of being together. My brother, Jade, Kelly, and I formed a bond—siblings in spirit, united in adventure. We shared stories while eating ice cream at midnight and whispered dreams under starlit skies And just like that, it was time to return. Our suitcases were heavier, not just from souvenirs but from memories that would forever linger in our hearts. As we lift off, I watch the sunset over the Spanish skyline, feeling a mix of sadness and gratitude. Spain will always be a memory of freedom and discovery, a time when we were just kids on an adventure 4 years had gone by, and Ophelia and her brother had adjusted to living with their foster parents. They had grown close to them, and they were happy in their home. Their social worker had always been supportive, and they looked forward to her visits. But this visit was different. As soon as she walked in the door, they knew that something had changed. "Good news, Ophelia, " she said, beaming at the young girl. "You and your brother are going to be adopted! Isn't that wonderful? " My heart sank. Adopted? Wha