the closest call my little sister and I got help from CPS was one of the most humiliating experiences, yet such a morbidly hilarious FAILED Christmas miracle. [Context: While my father physically abused me and my sis early on in my childhood, he stopped after we got a little closer to puberty and then he never touched us again... like no hugs or any type of physical contact. My mom did little to protect us. They are both mentally ill... My dad has Bipolar I disorder and schizophrenia with OCD tendencies, while my mom has the mentality of a 10 year old girl... She suffered a brain injury as a kid and it was like she never grew up. So needless to say, my sister and I were SEVERELY neglected. House was a mess, trash piled up everywhere, infested with roaches and mice. Everything was dirty and moldy and that lack of cleanliness showed on my sister and I- with our dirty uniforms, tangled hair, no lunches or meager at best and we probably smelled too. My parents could hardly take care of themselves, let alone 2 children).
Anyway, I'll never forget 5th grade christmas break... My sis and I heard there was going to be an after-school Christmas charity drive, where volnteers wrapped previously donated gifts and then organized them for delivery to local needy kids. Although my sister and I were the only kids who showed up without parents, they gladly let us participate and I was so proud to put my expert gift-wrapping skills to use (seriously I have been wrapping my own gifts and all the other family members since I was 8 yrs old). We spent the rest of the afternoon wrapping dozens of gifts and mathing them according to gender and age. I remember taking my time to look over each gift and trying to match it best with the wish list. We even gave feedback to some of the adults (which was a BIG DEAL because we were normally quiet and withdrawn)... "Oh that girl would probably LOVE this Polly Pocket instead of that barbie doll... That's what I would pick!" I admit we were kind of envious at times watching all the newly wrapped gifts get bagged up for drop-off... what kid could not? But we felt so happy afterwards! My sis and I were so proud that we were helping less than fortunate children in the poorer inner city have a happier christmas.
Fast forward to the next day, we hear a knock on our door (which we always dread because we lived in such filth and my mom works nights, while my dad works during the day... so we have to be as quiet as possible to let my mom rest). My half-asleep mom barely cracks open the door in her pajamas while my sister and i peek around my mother to see who would willingly come to visit us (the exception of course was the Avon Lady. No amount of flith could keep her away.). Anyway, to my absolute mortification, I see one of the charity organizers from yesterday holding a bag of gifts, while exclaiming "Merry Christmas! On behalf of Santa, we're here on a very special trip to bring some early christmas gifts for 2 especially good girls this year! May I please meet [insert me and my sisters' names]? Santa wants to be sure they get his special delivery!"
You can probably guess where this is going...
My mother looked back suspiciously at us, while my sister and I continued to gape at the bag of gifts, as the women shook the bag, like she was enticing a puppy for treats (In hindsight: that was kind of a crass move.). I had never felt so much shame... my sister and I had volunteered to wrap gifts for the poor, unbeknowst the whole time, we were on that list. I don't know if the organizers hid our names from us or had a separate list they came up with, or frakly, just felt sorry for me and my sister's obvious neglect and wanted to give us something to show their appreciation for helping out. Either way, my mom in her best ESL voice kept saying, "No thank you" and "You have the wrong house." The lady was confused at first, especially because we kept alternating in between trying to step out of the house, while blocking the lady's view of inside the house. She seemed pretty damn intent on giving us the gifts and finally asked us outright if we wanted them. My sis and I couldn't help but stare longingly at the bag, fully knowing they were definetely NOT from Santa (we never believed in Santa. It's an Asian thing I guess). My sister (being 7 years old) was super happy, but I suddenly felt mortified that I may have inadvertantly wrapped our very own gifts- toys intended for the poor kids. Plus I felt so bad for my mom... despite the neglect, she did indulge us. She loved us so much but we were more like playmates and the parental roles were completely reversed. But we had gifts every birthday and Christmas, she usually spent way more than she should and often got in trouble for it. I realized that no toy would ever be worth the amount of shame my mom would feel and I was stilll struggling with the idea that my family was viewed as poor or needy. The fact that we lived in such filth was a secret, a shameful one, but my sister and I knew there had to be kids worse off than us. So I quietly said in my best 10 year old adult voice: "No, thank you,'' while my mom shut the door on the lady's face as my sister burst into tears. The lady knocked a few more times, but then must have given up.
The icing on the cake was besides missing out on those gifts, me and sister got a beating later on from my dad (of course, my mom told him b/c it disturbed her sleep!). He yelled as he punched... how we were spreading lies about our family or trying to scam our teachers or something. My dad had convinced us that we had it easy, that he grew up with an abusive father (apparently no lessons learned there!) and he had the scars to prove it... that he knew kids with cigarette burns on their bodies. Plus he told us, my sister and I might be separated if anyone tried to take us away. That sealed the deal for me and my sister... There was no more doubt. It had always been my sister and me against the world... Separating us would have been the absolute worst possible thing that could ever happen to us and we would never let that happen. We only really had each other to depend on. So we took care of each other more after that. i always made sure she took her baths, combed her hair, washed our uniforms, packed our lunches, etc. Ultimately, we both made excuses why no one could ever visit our house or how our parents treated us.
After christmas break, my sister's teacher later tried to get my sister to tell them if we were being mistreated. I think the organizers were the ones to put the word out and looking into getting social services involved after that incident. My sister said no, she had learned her lesson. Her teacher later that month made her "Student-of-the-Month," maybe out of merit, but we speculated later that it was probably out of pity or a consolation prize since my sister could be a troublemaker. Months later, I remember we got a few phone calls from CPS every now and then... but we always hung up on them. We kept our noses down and we never volunteered for anything after that or did anything that might get an adult's attention. Eventually, we dropped off CPS's radar. We had convinced ourselves that we were fine and that CPS was the enemy... we put on an act as best as we could and perpetuated the lies, but it never mattered because we at least had each other. Never knowing until years later that neglect and emotional manipulation are other forms of abuse.
TL/DR: As kids, my sister and I had volunteere to wrap donated gifts for local poor children, unbeknowst the whole time, we were on that list! We were so humiliated and we had to refuse them. Later teachers and social services started investigating us, but our abusive father convinced us to lie about our mistreatment to everyone else and even ourselves, that we were fine as long as my sister and I had each other.
toys we had seen wrapped yesterday matched the shapes of the gifts