What touches my heart is the plight of children growing up
in violent homes.
Don’t get me wrong; I had gentle, loving parents who taught
us three kids right from wrong and protected us from violence. At three or four
years old, I thought everyone had parents like mine. I knew there were bad
people in the world, but mommies and daddies were good. Our home and our
parents were our safe haven.
I’m sure that’s why this memory has haunted me for all these
years.
We are swimming at a
lake. I sit on a warm wooden pier beside my mother, legs dangling. Mommy said I
have to sit in the sun until my swimsuit is nearly dry because my teeth were
chattering from the cold water. I watch a little girl about my age with long
brown hair and a pink swimsuit put on her white ruffled socks and red,
two-buckle Buster Brown shoes.
In my memory she smiles at me.
On the shore, a tall
man, dark-haired man in dark blue swim trunks yells at her to hurry up. I think
he must be her daddy watching over her like my daddy watches over me. I wonder where
her mother is, and why they left her alone on the dock above the deep water. She
hunches her shoulders and scrunches up her face as if she’s scared. I wonder if
she’s a slow-poke.
The man frowns and
strides toward the little girl. Something about him makes me scoot closer to my
mommy, who’s been watching my brother and sister jump off the raft into Daddy’s
arms. She puts her hugs me and kisses the top of my head. My gaze darts back
and forth between the scary man and the scared little girl.
“You can go back in the
water now,” Mommy tells me. I feel her stand up beside me but I can’t move. The
little girl’s fingers fumble with the last buckle on her shiny red shoes. My
mother pulls me to my feet as the little girl grabs her towel and scrambles to
hers. I watch her run to the scary man.
“Look , Daddy,” I hear
her say as Mommy climbs down the ladder into the water. I watch the little girl
stop and point to her feet. “I got them on the right feet this time! And I buckled
them all by myself.
Her daddy barely glances
at her shoes. He grabs her wrist and jerks her arm so hard that she begins to
cry. “Your socks are on the wrong feet. How can you be so stupid?” he says. He
drags her down the dock, promising to punish her when they get home.
“Sally!” I blink down
at my mother below me in the water. “Come down the ladder. I’ll swim you out to
the raft.”
“Mommy. How could she
put her socks on the wrong feet?” I ask. “Why did her daddy calling her names? Why
was he mean to her?”
“The little girl didn’t
do anything wrong, sweetheart. The poor little thing’s daddy is a mean man. He’s
not a good daddy like your daddy.”
Sadly, I knew I couldn’t help that little girl. But I never
forgot her.
Years later I welcomed the opportunity to work in social
services advocating for at-risk children. It felt wonderful to be able to do
something to help prevent child abuse. I knew I couldn’t help all of them, but
I could help some—and that was well worth the effort.
As a writer, I’m proud of belonging to Rose City Romance
Writers for many reasons, not the least of which is their support for a
domestic violence shelter in a nearby town.
How can you help these children?
- If you witness a child being abused or neglected, report it to the social services or the police.
- Join a child abuse prevention organization like Prevent Child Abuse America. Read their What You Can Do: Reach Out list.
- Volunteer to become a Court Appointed Special Advocate through a CASA program. The National CASA Association is a network of 955 programs that are recruiting, training and supporting volunteers to represent the best interests of abused and neglected children in the courtroom and other settings.
- Donate items on your local shelter’s Wish List
- Volunteer at a domestic violence shelter or a homeless shelter.
- Become a Foster parent.
- Become a Big Brother or Big Sister, or join another mentoring program.
- Contact your senators and congressmen to urge them to support continued funding of child abuse prevention programs; and of the National CASA Association, which pays for itself more than twenty-times over in reduced costs to foster care and other programs.
"It takes a village to raise a child."
What will you do to
keep children safe in their homes?
~Sarah Raplee
© 2012 Sarah Raplee ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
5 comments:
Hi Sarah,
Isn't it amazing how an event in our lives, even when a young child, impacts us all our lives?
The resources you've mentioned all are great programs whose focus is on keeping children safe and in their homes.
It does take a village to raise a child!
Hi Judith,
Yes, it is amazing how a childhood experience can have far-reaching effects.
Thanks for stopping by.
I was once in the process of adopting an older girl as a single parent. She was ten, and had been raised under an abusive situation involfing her mother and grandmother.
I tried my best, but could not reach her. Once the "honeymoon" period ended, she grew increasingly violent. After several incidents she was takine into a hospital for a psychological evaluation. In the end the social worker and psycologists determined that her long-term history of abuse by women left her unable to handle a single-mother household and the adoption was never finalized. I reluctantly agreed to let her go in the hope they could find a better placement for her.
Shew ould be agrown woman now, in her thirties. I hope she somehow found peace.
Hi B.A., I found your comments particular poignant because I worked almost 30 years in adoptions (mostly international or transracial US). There is no such thing as an unfinished adoption that doesn't have many casualties. And the fact that you remember her and wish her well is testimony to your commitment and effort to make it work. I too hold memories and prayers for the young people who struggle with finding their place in the world where they are safe, loved, and at peace.
I know for a fact that it can happen.
Thank you for sharing your agonizing experience, B.A. You showed her that not all families or all women are violent. I believe that knowledge had a positive impact on her, even though she wasn't able to trust you completely.
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