Dec. 14, 2008

Text of Observer story should the web link become broken:

 

THE GIFT OF GIVING

STORIES OF HOPE & NEED

A special Christmas: Mother and daughter together again

By Kathleen Purvis

Posted: Sunday, Dec. 14, 2008

Christmas looks a little different this year for Betty Reed and her 10-year-old daughter, Joie. There's a Christmas tree. A string of lights in their apartment window. They've made stockings and baked cookies. They've gone to a friend's cookie exchange party. All the little things that make a Christmas tradition.

Reed even joined the 5 a.m. crowd of shoppers at a Wal-Mart in Lenoir on the day after Thanksgiving. “That was probably only the second time I had the money to do it,” Reed admits, giggling.

Compare that to Christmas a couple of years ago. Reed was in jail. She had relapsed from her recovery program for alcohol and cocaine addiction and got arrested for driving while impaired. She had lost custody of Joie (pronounced Joey), who was in foster care.

Reed, 38, remembers that Christmas too well. “I cried every night,” she said. Even after getting released, putting a family back together is never easy. She got to see Joie once a week for an hour.

This season the Observer has shared stories of people who give and stories about people and programs with great need. But we also wanted to share a story about someone who received.

Reed admits she has received a lot. She has benefited from treatment programs, like Summit House, where women can stay with their children while getting help, and Hope Haven, where she went through an 18-month treatment program. She gets help from another program for the rent on the apartment where she and Joie live.

Reed has benefited from the Community Culinary School of Charlotte, where she graduated from the program that trains jobless people for work in food service. She benefits from Friendship Trays, where she now works. Mostly, she has benefited from all the people who work in the warehouse building on Distribution Street that houses both Community Culinary School and Friendship Trays, the program that delivers daily meals for shut-ins. “They were so supportive,” she says. “They taught me how to be at work every day, to work hard every day. It's a safe place.”

‘A tool she could use'

Reed is a tiny woman with wide eyes and a carefully cut pageboy. Her voice is so soft, it is almost childlike. She calls her life “not a very nice” past.

“We are not the cure for her, but we are definitely a tool she could use,” says chef Ron Ahlert, the director of the culinary school. “We guided her. And she now has two years of pushing away from those challenges, from the drugs and alcohol.”

She was in active addiction for 18 years, and moved to Lenoir from Maryland several years ago to be near her mother and to get away from her troubles. But the troubles followed, and she got into treatment at Summit House so she and Joie could stay together. All the residents pitch in on chores, so she got to work in the kitchen.

She discovered she really liked to cook. So she signed up for Community Culinary, graduated from the three-month course and got a job with Friendship Trays.

Then she relapsed. Her family in Lenoir took Joie away. But the people at Community Culinary and Friendship Trays didn't give up on Reed. When she got out of jail, that's the first place she went. The only job opening was dishwasher. “I said I didn't care, I just want to be here.” She took it and started working her way back up.

People at the school helped her regain custody of her daughter and find a place to live. They've helped her through the rough times of earning her daughter's trust again.

It's not easy, Reed admits. She and Joie are still learning to be around each other. But in November, Joie wrote a paper for school on what she is thankful for. One of those things was being back with her mother. “That made me cry,” Reed says. “It's so much better, because I'm better.”

Today, Reed is a dietary management assistant at Friendship Trays. She checks the orders to make sure they fit clients' needs. She hopes to go to a one-year class for dietary management. It costs $500 and the school has offered to pay part of it. She's waiting to see if her tax refund will cover the rest.

People at Friendship Trays also say Reed does another job, acting as a sort of ambassador for the volunteers. With her quiet, calm demeanor, she makes sure everybody has a job but nobody gets overwhelmed by the hard work of a busy kitchen.

In the building on Distribution Street, everybody looks after each other. Many people who come through have been in trouble of one kind or another, so they can spot the signs. Reed says when she gets shaky, Ahlert will remind her to go to a support meeting.

Ahlert says Reed fills an important role herself. “She has mentorship qualities,” he says. “(Other students) look to her and say, ‘She came through that, I can, too.' Betty's hand is always out now, to be of service.”