SELFLESS
A letter to...
W
through the checks and interviews, you were our e weren’t first foster child. Your mum expecting had given birth to you just the phone a few days before. call just The doctors thought before that that she must’ve cut the Christmas. umbilical cord herself But you needed us and before she left you on the we were ready. As the social steps of a local church. workers brought you in, we There was no note. took in your rosebud lips The only clue about your and rounded cheeks. mum was the anorak you’d ‘She’s beautiful, Mummy!’ been wrapped in. my daughter Sarah, 13, A child’s size, age 14 cried with excitement. years, it had a handwritten ‘We’ve named her Holly, label: Angela. While the given the time of the year,’ police searched the social worker explained. for your mum, ‘It’s OK, angel. We’ll look it was our job to after you,’ I whispered. keep you safe. My husband Bill and I had Bill went out signed up to be foster parents to buy formula six months before, in 1978. and nappies, I already had three while I got the children – Sarah, Sophie crib ready. The and Stevie. But I loved kids gave you being a mum and had so teddies and toys. much love to give. We were all mesmerised After going by your adorable face and big, violet eyes. On 5 January, social services told us they’d found your mum Angela – she was just 15. ‘So young!’ I gasped. Angela had kept her pregnancy a To you and your secret, and had
given birth alone, at home in the bath. In time, little one, we were told that your father was Angela’s dad. He was an angry, evil man who’d raped his daughter. I was horrified. ‘That poor girl – how could this have happened?’ I cried. Angela’s dad had been arrested, her mum was nowhere to be found. ‘Angela has nowhere to go,’ a social worker said. ‘Can she stay with you, too?’ How could we say no? Arriving at our home, Angela was just a child herself. With her wavy, dark hair and violet eyes, she looked so much like you. Reunited with your mum, you instantly stopped crying. ‘Maria,’ Angela smiled sadly. ‘That’s her name.’ Over the next few weeks, we looked after you together. Then Angela’s mother resurfaced and wanted to take her daughter. But she said she couldn’t handle a baby as well. So you
She left you on the steps of a local church
mum Angela...
Your mum was just a child
were put up for adoption. ‘Maybe it’s best they both have a fresh start,’ I told Bill, through tears. ‘Be happy, little one,’ your mum said to you, before she left to go with her own mother. I sobbed, told Angela that I’d always be there if she wanted to talk. And, a week later, Maria, you went to live with a lovely family. I cried as I held you for the last time. In just a few months, you left a huge mark on our hearts. And though decades have passed, I still think of you and your mum often. Since then, I’ve fostered more than 100 children. It’s my passion. Because, like you, every child deserves to be loved.
Love,Jeanie x Jeanie Doyle, 62, Salford
Wicked Girl by Jeanie Doyle (£7.99, Mirror Books) is on sale now
ALL NAMES HAVE BEEN CHANGED. WORDS: ANNA MATHESON. PHOTOS (POSED BY MODELS): GETTY, ALAMY
The girls I’ll never for et DearMaria,
