We live next to a house that is part of the Tikinagan program. Tikinagan is for native children, run by native people. They help with children who need to be removed from their homes. From what I understand, the house here is only used for children in a transition such as waiting for a foster home. Sometimes the children are flown out from a reserve. There aren’t always people there and it is usually only a child and an adult. My washline is on the other side of the house by a swing set, so I get little glimpses of life there.

The other day I was out at the washline with Eli and Evan. I turned around and there was a little boy sitting on the swing set just watching us. I said, “Hi!” He just looked at me. Then I said, “What’s your name?” He just looked at me. He had a nasty cut by his eye and his hand was in some kind of splint. I said, “It looks like you got an ouchy. What happened?” He just looked at me. When we headed inside I said, “Bye.” And Eli chimed in with, “Bye!” He just looked at us.

This little boy has been here longer than most so we’ve seen him other times. After my one-sided conversation with him the other day, it hit me that he probably didn’t get his injuries from falling off his bike. I hate to think what put that sweet boy in protective custody.

He still hasn’t said anything to me, but I say hello whenever I see him. It seems like sometimes he tries to come out to the swing set when he sees me at the line. And the other day when I walked by he threw his paper airplane for me to see.