Open Doors, Open Hearts, Open Opportunities: Celebrating 40 Years of Foster Care with Sylvia
Forty years ago, Sylvia and her late husband, Paul, lived on a busy dairy farm. With five children of their own, their house was always full of life. But when their youngest started school, the quiet in the house just didn’t feel quite right. Farm life was never short on chores, yet they missed the presence of children during the day. An advertisement for Goulburn Valley Foster Care (which later became a part of Berry Street) flickered across the television screen, a training session happened to open up a month later, and the couple stepped forward. They never looked back.
Over the four decades since, Sylvia has long lost count of how many children have slept under her roof. She knows only that the number is well into the hundreds. Sibling groups were always her passion, keeping brothers and sisters together whenever she could. When a new child arrives, Sylvia’s approach is deliberately gentle and unhurried. There are no overwhelming introductions or grand expectations, just patience and room to breathe. She gets them involved in netball, drama, singing or whatever piques their interest, letting their natural interests anchor them. Sylvia showers them with praise at any chance she gets, because in her eyes, you can never give a child too much encouragement; it builds a quiet foundation of self-worth that helps them settle and feel safe.
Sylvia acknowledges that caring for vulnerable children means opening yourself up to the inevitable heartbreak of saying goodbye. Early in their journey, her and Paul fostered two pre-adoptive babies. When the time came for those infants to move to their permanent families, the separation was devastating. The grief was so sharp that they considered stepping away from fostering entirely. But, when another placement was offered soon after, they of course accepted; realising that they were a stepping stone in a young person’s life, and that, “as a foster carer, you simply endure the ache, because closing [your] heart is not an option”. The need was too great, and the love they had to share was far too resilient.
That enduring love has built a remarkable legacy. Years after leaving the farm, former placements still reach out to say thank you. One young woman, who stayed with Sylvia and Paul for three years, recently got in touch to share that she felt she had grown into a kind person, purely because of that Sylvia’s guidance. Another young man, who spent his childhood with Sylvia and Paul, named his firstborn son in Paul’s honour. For Sylvia, these moments are the ultimate reward, proving that the care invested in a young person’s life echoes for generations.
Even after four decades and countless lives changed, Sylvia remains wonderfully down-to-earth about her role. She is quick to brush off any notion that foster carers need to be superhuman, or that you need a massive home and a flawless routine. “The community simply needs ordinary people from all walks of life: single, partnered, working, or retired”. When her sister once worried she couldn’t love a child who was not biologically hers, Sylvia assured her that love is not something you can withhold: “your heart simply opens on its own”.
For anyone standing on the fence, Sylvia’s beautiful 40-year journey offers a simple truth: if you have the heart to care, the joy and personal growth you receive in return will be just as profound as the love you give.