Christian was brought into the Childrens' Hospital in Detroit
one day in spring 1987,a slim, copperhaired,shy
little boy.
The policewoman, who was with him at the time, introduced
herself to me and started to talk straight away: "We have just found this
little guy in a rundown apartment in Lower Detroit. Someone rang our Police station
and asked us to take care of him. He shouted the address through the phone and
hang up before I had a chance to ask him his name.
When my colleague and I got there, the apartment was empty apart
from this little one and the dead, stiff body of a young woman, who turned out
to be his mother.
He clutched a baby blanket tightly to his chest and would not
let anybody near him and touch him.
My colleague tried to talk to him, but he wouldn't or couldn't
answer."
My first impressions of him were those of a very neglected, unwashed
and generally uncared infant.
The officer continued with her account of the boy's discovery: "In
the end my partner and I had to carry him out of the apartment; he struggled
and screamed repeatedly:"Mommy, Mommy, I don't want to leave my
Mommy."
It was heartrending, Ma'am. We then brought him straight here
for a first assessment and check up."
My heart was aching with pity for this little boy, standing
there forelorn, big gray eyes locked with mine as he just stood there
motionless, clutching his 'blankie',holding my gaze with his amazing, unfathomable
stare.
I think, I had already fallen in love with him there and then; I
just didn't realize it until later.
(to be cont.)
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