When A Hand Isn't Enough
When I returned to the B&B to help Gwen take the next steps towards getting settled in their new environment, I was saddened to learn that they were gone.
The other residents had little news they could offer. One woman knew that Gwen had been using the pay phone quite a few times. And according to the B&B manager, Gwen told her that she was going ‘home.’
I went back to the Social Services office in hopes of getting some details as to Gwen’s original address, but understandably, the Data Protection Act prevented them from giving me any information. I also went to the caravan park and knocked on two of the adjacent caravans to where I first visited Gwen and the children. I wanted to see if anyone knew how to contact them or the owner of the caravan. No one did. I even asked the park manager, who wasn’t helpful at all.
For any of us who has tried to extend a helping hand for people in crisis, only to see them choose to continue that cycle of misery, abuse and sorrow, we should not be too quick to judge. It can often be difficult for them to accept that there can be a better life and that they are worthy of that better life.
This is often the crux of the problem: Someone has spent their entire life feeling unworthy, and being told they’re unworthy; once they’ve climbed out of that spiral of sorrow, it takes more than just a few hands to keep them from slipping back into the abyss.