Flower Child of the Sixties


                            Where are you today the child of endless love?

                            Have the  years driven you down?

                            Or did you just fly away on the mist of a lost dream?

                            The love you offered so freely was mocked.

                             So cruelly  like the One we followed.

                             All the hope and peace you offered the world  was dragged down and stomped.

                              Instead of love they preferred hate and spite.

                             Instead of growth they preferred to tear down for progress.

                            Instead of sharing they preferred greediness. 

                           Some of us do remember but, our numbers are thinning.

                           Yes, they are winning the battle.

                            If only they knew they lost the war.

                            And their trophy  is a planet that they have destroyed.           

 

Written 1991

 

 

                

 

Trees


                                Trees are symbolic of God

                                 The tree is strong and growing

                                 Like  his love for us.

                                The leaves are like us

                                Young in the spring

                                Full of growth in the summer

                                 Changing colors in the fall as we change with His loving hands

                                  Dying in the winter

                                  Only to be reborn with his touch in the spring

                                   The tree will always be there waiting for the leaves

                                  The winds of life may toss the leaves about

                                  But if the leaves are firmly rooted to the tree they need not fear the winds

                                  Instead the winds can be a reminder of His love and grace

                                 Because He will hold us tighter to Him

written in1994

                                                                

                             

The Neglected Child And Abused Child


She sounds out in a crowd but, you must look for her. She is the child alone on the playground or the one fighting. The angry child is showing you how she is treated at home. In her eyes she carries hurt behind the hurt is anger. If she has been beaten down in spirit all, that you will see is the hurt if you take the time to look. If she is angry what you will see is her rebelling. In the small acts that a child is capable of doing. She will talk to much, maybe push a child in line, dawdle over work to be done in class. Or she might daydream to shut out the enemy: the abusive adults in her world. The sexually abused child will be showing another child what is happening to her. Maybe she is rubbing herself against a pole, or plays with herself. She may wet her panties.
She may not have her hair combed, her clothes maybe dirty, or they may be to big for her. Or, there is one that would shock you to find out she is abused. Most adults would not believe that she is being abused because her hair is shiny and clean. Her clothes will be new and clean. Her parents are involved in school activities.  Fine upstanding members in town. This abused child is the hardest to spot. To the world she has it all.

These children carry the same burden because they are because they are abused. Most children going through this thinks it is normal. In their small head they think somehow it is their fault. If I had to choose I would take physical abuse because that pain stops. Words get replayed in your head for many years and your self esteem is gone. They die a bit each day for lack of love.

They do not have someone that will listen and hear their fears, joys, and dreams. No one hurts for them or comforts them. Laughter is not part of their life only fear and uncertainty. In this time of racing for more money many children are lost. Their parents think love is a new shiny bike or, the after school lessons for the fad of the moment. But these children want time with their parents instead of being neglected. They would be shocked to learn how their child really feels. Money can not buy time because, it only comes in fleeting moments in the life of a child.

These children need hugs, kisses, and the words I love you. It is easy to tell a child yes to something so you can have peace and quiet. It takes a loving parent to say no because I love you. Being a parent is very hard work and is a life long job.
We must do all we can to end abuse to children. Education is the way so that others know what to look for in abused children.

Decades: 30-40 page 2


I have putting this off because it will be the hardest one to write. I was happy to turn 40 because we had bought my dream home. It was built in 1903 in our historical district, I was in love with it. We were the 3rd family to own it and all was still original. My daughter turned 16 in our home and we back in our hometown. But, I started to feel sick shortly after we moved in. In October I had gall bladder surgery.  I thought that was bad but, my nightmare was just beginning.

My grandson’s mother moved to Arizona at the end of December 1992. My husband and I begged her to leave our grandson behind until they had jobs. We promised to take him there once they were settled. We both feared for his life because, we knew her boyfriend was on drugs. On January 22,1993  around 3:00 a.m. I received a collect call from her that he was in the hospital and had stopped breathing. She said the doctor needed to talk to her and she would call me back. They were in Kingman, Arizona so I called the information operator for the number. My hands shook as I dialed the number. A nurse answered the phone and I explained I was calling long distance about Scotty. I heard her say to someone “it is the grandmother what do I tell her”? I knew then he was dead. Her boyfriend had thrown Scotty against the wall and he had 3 skull fractures and was beaten to death. I heard someone yelling NO!!!!!!!!. That someone was me. My husband took the phone from me and got the details. I then had to stay awake to tell my son that his son was dead. It was one of the hardest things I ever had to do.Both he and my husband reacted with anger I went into shock.

The next morning I had to tell my daughter and she fell apart because to her he was her baby. From the time he was 3 months old she had moved in with her brother to help with him. To her he was her baby. The day was very busy. My husband went to work and designed his tombstone. It would be our last gift to out beloved Scotty. We packed and headed out that night for Kingman. We drove straight through and once at the motel he went in to check in and was refused a room. After he came back to the car and turned to me and said, “do I look like a manic”?. I laughed at his 2 day beard and wild hair with red eyes and said” sorry but yes”. It would be a very long time before I laughed again. We did find a wonderful motel and, once they found out why we were there, they gave us great rates. They were wonderful to us for the week that we were there. We decided to go eat and I bought 4 newspapers. The waitress asked if we could leave her one but, I told her who we were as Scotty’s murder was front page news in that small town. We each wanted our own copy to keep. Soon a hush came over the room as all eyes was on us. Of course, we did not eat much. The next day was spent with the police . We had to plan his funeral which the date kept changing. The state did their autopsy but, the defense wanted a second one done. We were told if we did not agree he might get off, we did not want that to happen. Of course, we had to agree. With our car tags everyone  knew who we were everywhere we went. It was beyond awful. Finally we had the funeral. When we told them we had brought the headstone they were shocked. We were told it usually took a year in Arizona to get one. They sent us out to eat so they could place it. Once back I stood in front of it and, took the same photo over and over. Finally my husband took the camera from my hands. It broke my heart and it still has a hole there for Scotty. I told my children I did not understand why this had to happen but, there was a reason. We had to trust God to bring good out of this. The trip back was very quiet. Once again we drove straight through.

Once back home I called and made a appointment for my daughter to talk with someone. I had her write the killer a letter and to keep a journal. I took her to the first appointment and he told me that I had given her great advice. She went for 6 months and they had her on Zoloft, now they know not to give it to under 18 years old. It helped some but, she was so filled with anger and hate.

My blood pressure went sky-high and I had trouble breathing. All I wanted to do was sleep but I had to sleep sitting up. My coughing would keep me up all night. I knew in my heart  I was dying but, no one would listen to me. They thought it was grief.