My name is Veronica Turner Hopkins, but everyone calls me Ronnie. I thought this article would be kind of easy for me to write, but I have found that isn’t true. I talk about being a foster child much better than I can write about it, but here goes!


My name is Veronica Turner Hopkins, but everyone calls me Ronnie. I thought this article would be kind of easy for me to write, but I have found that isn’t true. I talk about being a foster child much better than I can write about it, but here goes!

About 67 and a half years ago, I was put in my first foster care home along with my brother. At the time I was one and a half years old and my brother was just six months - we are one year apart to the exact day.  
I know when we were first place in foster care because, at the age of 14, I got a chance to ask my social worker, and she said I had been placed in several foster homes before I was six years old. I have no memories of my life with my biological parents or in the foster care homes until after age six.

I have memories of being in just three more foster homes until I turned 14.

I only remember a social worker coming out one time to talk and check on me and my brother and that was just before I turned 14. When she did come out, we could only talk to her with our foster mother in the room with us. We wouldn’t dare tell how we were treated and how unhappy we were because we knew we would be in big trouble after the social worker left. I felt the Social Worker did not really want to know the truth nor did she care because I am sure finding good foster homes was not easy.

Being in foster homes most of the time was hard for me, but when you have no choice, you make the best of it. I remember most foster parents were very mean physically and mentally to us. 

We played and slept in their basements. We were not allowed to be upstairs with the foster family.  We either ate our meals standing up in the back of the kitchen or outside on the porch. We knew we were not part of a family and most of all, not loved as a family member. They only kept us because they got paid for keeping us, and they did not have to love us or be nice to us. That’s what I told my brother one time when he asked me why we were treated this way.

One thing I did realize later in life - the last foster home I was in from seven years old to 14 was hard, but they did teach us right from wrong, good manners, how to become a good person, and we lived in a clean home.
After I turned 14, my brother and I were separated. I was put in an all girls home called Epworth School for Girls in Webster Groves, Mo. I just loved it! It was a big house with house parents and an assistant house mother with a total of 17 girls living together.

I remember the first day I arrived, scared to death. That evening, we sat down to dinner, all together, prayed together, passed the food around and you could take whatever you wanted and the amount.  I did not know what it was to eat as a family and to fill my own plate.  The girls home never made me feel like I was worthless; I felt that I counted!

That’s probably enough about me. I want to say, a few months back we had a couple ladies from Social Services come to the Draggin’ Thread Quilt Guild I belong to in Laurie to pick up quilts we ladies in the guild made for the foster children in Camden and Morgan counties. 

They talked to us about the foster care system, and I was amazed at how it has changed. I have attended several meetings as a third party person and have learned even more how the system has changed.  
It made my heart feel good to know foster children have rights and a voice now, and there seem to be better foster homes for them. And foster parents are not doing it just for the money.

I have to say, I did grow up and become a good person, a strong woman, hard working who loves life, and most of all I love my husband, my children and grandchildren. And I am blessed with several very close friends. 

I just have to say, my children and grandchildren got lots of hugs and kisses growing up and they also heard those three little words, I LOVE YOU - those words I never heard as a child growing up. And they will keep getting hugs and kisses and keep hearing those three little words as long as I am in this life with them!