Rosie barely knew her daddy. He went to prison when she was just a little girl. She missed him fiercely, but it didn’t matter — he couldn’t be there when she needed him. Rosie’s mom was addicted to drugs, so it fell to her grandmother to raise her. Her grandmother was a good woman, but there was a void in Rosie’s heart that she simply could not fill.
Some would have deemed her hopeless. That she even finished school was a miracle. “I had pretty much dropped out,” Rosie says, and that was only the beginning. Soon she was trapped in a downward spiral . . . where all she wanted was her next fix and a place to sleep for the night. “I was the lowest of the low,” she remembers — “the most broken addict you will ever see or care to know…”
She was a wreck when she came to us — in every way you can imagine. “I don’t know if you noticed my scars up and down my arms,” she says. “I was almost a goner from doing drugs.”
That was more than a year ago now. We’ve seen Rosie blossom into a new woman — not at all the angry, fearful, and confused woman who, when she came to us, was “always looking over my shoulder.” For the first time in her adult life, she’s drug-free. She wants to become an x-ray technician, and she’s living in a place of her own.