Dear Elmcrest,
When I say you saved me, I mean it with every piece of who I am.
I entered the foster care system when I was only a year and a half old. My earliest memories aren’t of laughter or playgrounds, but of boxes being packed, strangers’ faces, and long car rides to new homes. I was taught that children should be “seen and not heard.” By the time I was four, the abuse had already begun — physical, emotional, and sexual. Those who were supposed to protect me became the ones who hurt me most. They took my innocence and left me believing I didn’t matter.
By the time I arrived at Elmcrest, I was angry. I was broken. I was certain no one could love me — and that I wasn’t worth saving. I expected to be just another “problem kid” in a system that had given up on me.
But you were different.
At Elmcrest, you didn’t see a case file. You saw me. For the first time in my life, I felt seen — not for what I had done, but for who I could become.
When I was about six or seven, I found my way to the Family Support Center. It wasn’t just a program; it was a lifeline. You didn’t just check boxes or make calls — you showed up. You gave me something I had never known before: stability, consistency, and hope. When everything around me was falling apart, you built a foundation under my feet.
Years later, when I returned at fourteen, I was still searching — for direction, for belonging, for someone to believe in me. Ms. S., you saw past my walls and found the scared kid underneath. You knew I needed more than a temporary fix; I needed a place to heal. You sent me to the Residential Program, and that’s where my real journey began.
It wasn’t easy. Healing never is. But you never gave up on me. You held me accountable, even when I pushed back. You challenged me, believed in me, and loved me when I couldn’t love myself.
I’ll never forget what Mr. E told me: “You can stay the same and hope the world changes, or change yourself and watch your world transform.” He was right. I chose change.
You gave me structure when all I had ever known was chaos. You honored my faith and helped me reclaim a part of myself I thought I had lost. Thank you, Mr. B, for sitting through every Mass and Confirmation class with me — those moments gave me peace when I needed it most.
You gave me responsibility through programs like Paw Print, and slowly, I learned to trust myself again. You taught me that my past did not define me — and that being a “bad” kid didn’t mean I couldn’t grow into a good man.
Because of Elmcrest, I did more than survive — I began to live.
Today, I’m 29 years old. I own my home. I have two amazing dogs. I’ve traveled the world. I’m studying Marriage and Family Therapy so I can help other kids and families find the same hope you gave me. And I still keep in touch with the people at Elmcrest who believed in me before I knew how to believe in myself.
Elmcrest, you didn’t just give me a bed to sleep in.
You gave me safety.
You gave me purpose.
You gave me a future.
You gave me.
And someday, I hope to come back — not as a kid in need, but as someone ready to change lives the way you changed mine.
You saved me.
And I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to pass that gift on.
With all my heart,
Matthew
Help Save the Next Matthew
Every child who walks through Elmcrest’s doors carries their own story — their own pain, their own hope for something better. Your support makes it possible for us to be that turning point — to help them heal, grow, and believe in themselves again.
This season, as you consider your year-end giving, we invite you to make a gift to Elmcrest’s Annual Appeal. Your donation directly supports programs like the Family Support Center and Residential Services that helped Matthew — and continue to help hundreds of children find safety, purpose, and a future.
Because every child deserves to say, “You saved me.”
