09/23/2025
This was once just a dull stone.
I've spent most of my career working with kids in foster care. In the late nineties I was a youth worker, mentoring kids and supervising contact visits with their families. I’d been working with one particular 6 year old for a while, taking him on visits to see his grandparents.
We were at the grandparents’ place one Saturday, waiting for the kid’s dad to come and see him. Dad was recently out of jail and they hadn’t seen each other for over a year. My kid was anxious, I could see it in his eyes. I asked him how he was feeling, and he told me he was scared.
I picked up a small stone from the ground at my feet and handed it to him. I explained it wasn’t an ordinary stone, it was a brave stone. I told him to put it in his pocket and whenever he felt scared, he could reach in and give it a squeeze and it would make him feel brave. The visit went well and he was fine, so I guess it worked.
A few weeks later we were having another visit. We were chatting and waiting for dad to arrive, and I mentioned to my kid that I had a job interview the next day and I was feeling nervous. Without missing a beat, he picked up a stone, handed it to me, and told me it was my brave stone.
Needless to say, I had that brave stone in my pocket the next day. I guess it worked, the interview went well, I got the job as a case worker and spent the next 20 years with that agency, eventually as the general manager.
I still have my brave stone. It’s moved house with me, it’s travelled around the world with me. I had it while I presented at a national conference. Most recently it was in my pocket as I stepped up to give my mum’s eulogy, the hardest thing I've ever done.
Now, here’s the thing: I know my stone doesn’t really have any special powers. But it reminds me that if the kids I work with every day, who have faced grief and trauma unimaginable to most of us, if they can be brave, so can I.
(Aussie, 50ish, Size 10UK(?), last banana went in a protein smoothy this morning)
