Back in the 1970's my mom worked for social services. CPS. She always tried her best to do the right thing. She fought as hard as she could for those kids, with the very small amount of tools she had.

She could tell you some really great stories. But for every great story there is at least 2 horror stories.

She only talked about what made her quit that job, one time.

She had a case dealing with a 5 year old girl. Her father had been severely physically abusive. She knew it would be dangerous for her to ever go back to him.

Judge ordered him to take some kind of parenting classes plus some jail time. After he did this, the judge would re-evaluate or whatever.

He completed everything the judge ordered so the judge said his daughter could go back with him.

My mom did everything in her power to stop this. She knew that if this kid went home, it would end badly.

My mom talked to every connection she had. Pulled every string she could. Called in every favor and ended up even owing people favors.

But none of it mattered. The judge did not listen to my mom and he sent the kid home with his dad.

That night, this man filled the bath tub with scalding hot water. He held her completely under. Dunking her repeatedly. he didn't drown her, mind you. But I am told that the burns were so bad that her skin was even starting to fall off.

She died from her injuries.

As soon as my mom found this out, she quit. She felt so powerless. Like she had let this kid down. She tried her best and her best wasn't good enough.

So, she went back to school and she became a nurse. A newborn nursery nurse. Over the course of her 33 plus ear ( And still going strong) career, she has saved the lives of more babies than she could count and she could not be happier.

The hours suck, her supervisors are useless assholes, she gets a lot of crazy patients, but damn if she isn't happy, taking care of those babies, keeping them safe and healthy.

I'm proud of my mom.