By Teresa Lowry

It appeared out of the blue, completely unexpected. The request through Facebook Messenger asked if I would be available to meet her for coffee. She was coming to Las Vegas with her family. I said yes. If she had used her married name I would not have recognized her. She used her maiden name, so I remembered her.

We set a date and met at the Excalibur where she was staying for a long weekend. When I arrived, I shook hands with her sons and smiled at her grandchildren. Her middle son said they had been looking for me, calling past employers and searching social media. The children and grandchildren left for the arcade leaving her and I alone to reconnect.

She shared that for the past 17 years she has worked for social services in her home state. Most recently she was promoted to a position responsible for running a child abuse prevention program. This past spring, as part of a child abuse prevention and awareness campaign, she made a training video to educate and inform professionals in the field. It was important to her that the audience know that they can have a lasting positive impact on the lives of the children they meet. The video was well received resulting in the local sheriff making a request for copies for his department.

This video was personal. She decided to make it real and tell her story and the story of the professionals who helped her. There was the police officer, social worker, detective and teacher. She was a 13-year-old victim of unspeakable abuse picked up by a police officer whose instincts told him she was in more trouble than she was willing to admit. He took his time encouraging her to talk, he reassured her and calmed her fears. He promised protection and safety. She took a leap of faith and told her truth.

The officer rescued her but then she and her younger sister were alone without any family support. Knowing how isolated and lonely protective custody can be for a child the officer took steps to help. He and his wife would visit her and include her and her sister in their family outings.

She recalled the kindness of the detective assigned to her case. As the months in Child Haven dragged on, he made a point to include her in his family activities. She was able to have fun and be a kid again until a relative placement was found, and she moved away.

In high school, a caring teacher took an interest her, mentoring and guiding her to graduation and her first part time job in a bank. She gives credit to this teacher for keeping her in school and getting her through the difficult times when running away was an ever-present option.

Reliving her story through the video sparked a thought. Could she find any of the people who had helped her? She wanted to say thank you. Her son told her he would help. He didn’t give up until he found me.

Thirty-four years ago, I was a 24-year-old social worker assigned to child abuse investigations. She was one of the children on my caseload. I remember the solemn intensity and seriousness she carried at such a young age. Her name was one that stayed with me. We talked for almost two hours. The memories were fresh for her as she described my holding her hand while she cried waiting to testify in court. She said my words of encouragement gave her strength. She reminded me that I had taken her shopping for clothes and shoes on her birthday. She wanted me to know that my kindness mattered. She said thank you. I told her I was proud of her. We promised to keep in touch, hugged and said goodbye.