- Juanita Willems speaks candidly about her upbringing in foster care and how this led to charity work
- She says although she underwent a traumatic incident as a child at the hands of a foster carer causing her to go blind, this hasn’t stopped her from wanting to help others
- Here, Juanita from Mosgiel, NZ, tells her inspirational story
Sprinkling the rolled oats in the front yard for the reindeer, my six-year-old twins, Mitchell and Joshua, were as excited as I was.
“Is Santa going to visit tonight?” they asked.
Later my husband, Mark, 41, would walk through the house with white flour on his gumboots to make it look like snow.
“Sure is,” I beamed.
Christmas was a special time in our family and Mark and I loved decorating the house and wrapping presents for the kids.
Perhaps, it was because of my upbringing.
I’d been in foster care from age two to seven, until I was adopted.
I didn’t remember Christmas before living with my new family, so after I got married, Mark and I always made the festive season extra special.
Only problem was, my eyesight.
At 32, I could barely see without my glasses and each year, I’d needed a stronger prescription. I’d spent hours at eye clinics all throughout my childhood.
Objects in the distance or even up close had become more blurry despite my thick glasses.
“I can’t see the stars,” I said to Mark one night.
In May 2011, I came across a charity called Foster Hope and it piqued my interest.
The organisation provides backpacks with essential items to kids going into foster care.
Although I had a full-time admin job, I wanted to help out.
“Why don’t you start with a pyjama drive?” the charity founder, Louise, suggested.
That year, with Mark’s support, we collected 50 pairs of new PJs kindly donated by family and friends and distributed it to foster agencies in Otago.
I began overseeing Foster Hope’s volunteers from Oamaru South and helped put together backpacks, which contained toiletries, new underwear and pyjamas, books, and clothes.
We also started organising Christmas presents.
“Every child deserves to know someone cares about them, especially at Christmas,” I explained to the boys.
After the agencies sent us a list of kids, we put out a notice on Facebook for our Christmas drive, and hordes of people dropped off gifts.
There were toys, board games, soccer balls, puzzles, and Lego — something for everyone! I was amazed by the generosity of others.
At home, we sorted and wrapped them until they were ready for collection.
Later, a 15-year-old sent a thank you note. This is the first time I ever got a Chrissie present, she wrote.
It made me even more determined to help but sadly, my vision continued to worsen.
I also suffered frequent migraines, and my eyes felt tired and strained.
Why is this happening to me? I wondered.
Optometrists didn’t have answers. In March 2015, I was driving and suddenly a black spot appeared in front of both eyes. It was terrifying.
Luckily, I made it home safely.
“Maybe you’re overtired,” Mark suggested when I told him.
But next day, I saw 20 different spots.
Hope in a Suitcase helps children going into foster care or out-of-home care, throughout NSW, Queensland, Victoria and Tasmania. The non-profit organisation provides suitcases for children filled with donations of new items from the community, groups and corporations. Since its beginning in 2018, the charity has grown to be able to provide suitcases for children in care throughout NSW, Queensland, Victoria and Tasmania.
How can I help foster children in my area?
To make a donation, please visit: Hope In a Suitcase
A doctor finally diagnosed me with bilateral retinal detachment.
He said a thin layer of tissue or the retina at the back of my eyes had pulled away from its normal position, and I needed emergency surgery to reattach it or I risked permanent vision loss.
I had surgery in my left eye followed by the right one 10 weeks later.
But it didn’t help. A second surgery also failed.
“Have you ever had a head injury that may have caused this?” he asked.
I had no idea, so I spoke with my adoptive parents and we asked a court to release my medical records from my early childhood.
Eighteen months later, we found that I’d suffered significant head, brain and eye trauma as a result of a severe beating by one of my caretakers, who was jailed.
At first, I found it hard to cope with this shocking revelation.
“It’s horrible, but you have to keep moving forward,” Mark encouraged me.
He was right.
“I refuse to live as a victim,” I resolved.
In the following years, I had 31 more surgeries on my eyes, but my sight continued to deteriorate. Eventually, I quit my job.
In July 2019, the doctor called me. By then, I could only see a flicker of light.
“There’s nothing more we can do, you’re going to go blind,” he said.
“How long do I have?” I asked.
He gave me six months to a year. I spent a day crying, but again, I had to be strong.
Mark and I sat the boys down and spoke honestly.
“Someone injured my eyes when I was little and I’ll go blind as a result,” I said.
We all had a good cry. “We’ll help you, Mum,” Joshua, 15, said, hugging me.
I didn’t want to give up my work for Foster Hope so Mark, the kids and other volunteers stepped in, driving me around and sorting presents and backpacks.
The blind services helped put my clothes in order and installed new kitchen drawers so I could remember where everything was and find it easily.
I started learning Braille, how to use a cane and a specialised computer program which could type and read text back to me.
One day, 10 months later, I realised I couldn’t see anything. It had happened.
Although it was hard, I knew I could still make a difference.
“Now I’m even more determined to help others,” I said to Mark.
Last year, we distributed 1800 backpacks and 1300 presents to foster kids, and this year, we hope to make it 1500 gifts.
I still suffer from pain in my eyes, and some days are tough, but my family and community has kept me going and that’s been the best gift I could ever wish for.
