Until Barry Cash had a Thanksgiving with the LaVoies, the holidays did not hold much meaning for him.

Growing up under the guardianship of the Department of Human Services, Cash bounced in and out of 32 foster homes before, at the age of 12, he was placed with the LaVoies, a family he now calls his own.

Cash hasn’t seen his biological parents since the day his mother put the 6-year-old boy on a Lewiston school bus and told the driver not to bring him back. He hasn’t heard much of them either: The last he heard, about a year ago, his Uncle Barry, for whom he is named, told him they might live in Virginia.

Cash, now 18, carries a few happy memories of his first six years of life, preceding foster care; memories made in South Paris with his uncle. “I remember in the winter sledding until it was dark listening to the wolves howl, climbing trees,” he said.

He spent the next six years ping-ponging in and out of temporary foster homes. Where there should be carefree memories of childhood, there is only a void. “I honestly can’t remember much,” he said of that time, “it was so cluttered.”

After spending nearly eight years with the Thelma LaVoie and her family at their Parsonsfield home, Cash easily recounts pleasurable memories of his holidays, which he now knows are about “extra time with people you care about and who care about you.”

One of his favorite holiday stories is the year of the turkey day food-fight.

It was started by Thelma’s grown son, Roli, whom Cash describes as “a kid at heart,” the fight commenced after the turkey feast and everybody, including Thelma joined in. Though this may sound like Thanksgiving anarchy to most families, for Cash and the LaVoies it was just part of the quirky family antics.

The LaVoie household leans to the left of traditional and though they enjoy decorating for the holidays, you won’t find a pine Christmas tree in their living room.

Instead, Thelma LaVoie thrives on surprising her family each year with an eccentric central decoration.

Cash remembers the year his foster mother hung wire tomato cages from the ceiling and strung them with white lights. “Everybody either dreads or looks forward to seeing what it’s going to be, but they know it’s not going to be traditional,” said LaVoie.

This year Cash will spend his Thanksgiving just as he has since he was 12, with the LaVoies, and they would not expect anything less, though LaVoie said she is not necessarily looking forward to a food fight this holiday. “I still consider them family and they consider me family … more than my own,” Cash said.

LaVoie, a seamstress and former high school math teacher, has for many years taken in children in need and 11 years ago became a state-sanctioned foster mother. She considers Cash a part of her family. She said his visits are anticipated events. “When Barry’s coming to visit we all fight over him,” she said.

Cash, a high school senior, now lives in a group home in Scarborough. His state-appointed guardian recommended he move into a new home to learn to cook and live independently. Eight months ago he was placed at the Edgewood house on Twilight Drive in Scarborough, one of six Ingraham group home programs around the state.

Cash will graduate from Scarborough High School in May 2006 and is considering joining the Navy. A Navy recruiter visited Cash at the Edgewood group home, which he said “made me feel pretty important because they wanted me. I haven’t got a lot of that.”

Barry Cash has been a ward of the state since his mother put him on a Lewiston school bus when he was six and told the driver to not bring him back. Now 18, Cash is a senior in highschool, living in a group home and loves playing classic rock tunes on his Jasmine acoustic/electric guitar. He has been playing for five years and taught himself the discipline.