People Watcher


English: Join the movement to end child abuse:...

English: Join the movement to end child abuse: http://www.1stand.org

I didn’t want to get you sidetracked on my last post. I was talking about Al and wanted to stick to it.

While we were at Culver’s it was about 12:30. A good time on a Sunday to people watch. It was very crowded and I was thankful for the staff and visitors who helped open doors to get his wheel chair in and out. Also for checking out the Men’s restroom to make sure the coast was clear before barging in on some guy and scaring him so he couldn’t pee.

I love to people watch. If I can go to a mall and shop for a bit and spend more time sitting and people watching, this is what I would do. Today there were many people who had left church and headed here to eat.

It was so cute to see little girls in pretty dresses and white lacy anklets. Sort of reminded me of myself when I was little. There were ladies in dresses and men in suits. There were the relaxing folks with shorts and tank tops on.

I was really enjoying myself between keeping an eye on Al’s chewing. There was this one couple though that I found it hard to mind my manners.  I wanted to stare but I had to do it politely. They had to be young, well to me young. They were probably in their late twenties. I could tell from their outfits that they also had just left church to come here to eat. They had one daughter who was probably around 7 and another baby in a car seat. This baby wasn’t old enough to sit up yet. Cute little kids.

What gave me mixed feelings was my mind was thinking, nice church folks, pretty clothes, family, togetherness, comforting.

Then the baby would cry. I could see from my view that the Mama was trying to console the baby without having to pick he/she up, but the baby didn’t stop fussing. This was the first glimpse I got of mixed emotions. This is when the mixed emotions started flaring up.

Each and every time the baby cried, the Mama’s eyes got huge and she stared at her husband‘s face. The little girl became very quiet and stayed frozen in her seat. Finally the mom picked up the baby and gave up her hot food to comfort the little one.

The whole time she kept her eyes glued to her husband. There were no smiles or laughter or chatter. The baby quieted down and she laid it back in its little seat. Once again it cried. Instantly her eyes went to her husband again.

There was something familiar to me in that look of hers. It reminded me of when I was married to my last husband and I was always afraid of doing the wrong thing. The heart races, the breathing becomes rapid, but silence falls all around them and fear takes over.

Finally after the husband had finished his meal he took the baby from Mom. She could now eat her cold lunch. After he got the baby quiet the Mom’s eyes returned to normal. The little girl started to speak once again.

I felt eerie inside. I wanted to go over and ask the Mom or the little girl if they were safe, but I didn’t. I let it sit inside of me and stir like red-hot embers. I didn’t have any evidence.

I watched them leave and put my full attention back on Al. I felt ugly inside for not doing anything. There was a part of me that needed proof before I stuck my neck out. The only proof I had was my own memories of when my husband was not a very nice man, which is why I divorced him.

Kids or no kids if you are in a relationship that you don’t feel safe at all times, for heaven’s sake, get out. Get out and save your life, your sanity, and your children, if there are any. If you can’t get out because of no funds, do what I did. Save money until you can get out. I told my kids what was going on and I felt better because I had more pairs of eyes watching my life go by. If worse situation comes, walk out the door, call the neighbor, or call the police. Don’t hang around for love or security, you won’t find it.

I felt like something was going on inside that family, and I asked God to watch over that wife, mother and children, because all I had to go on was instincts.

Remember, abuse can happen to anyone. Church going people, teachers, preacher’s kids, your next door neighbor, your boss’s family, anywhere and anytime always be a good people watcher.

Picture it & Write; May 5/2013


http://ermiliablog.wordpress.combaby-and-fruit-loops

When Kaylee was born she came with a roar. She was screaming as though she had been frightened for her life.

As days went by she would cry at the very moment we all thought was calm. She was like a roaring wave coming closer and closer. If you got too close the wave would suck you under.

Doctors and specialist began the hunt to learn what made this beautiful baby act like she was mad at the world. Tests came back negative. Doctors were scratching their heads. It was as if they were all sitting on a ten-year old tree stump.

At the end of a long journey of failed attempts, it was agreed that this precious child just had one of those personalities. Weeks turned into months and soon Kaylee was old enough to start eating finger foods.

There were many days where the parents along with baby Kaylee enjoyed many meals together. Then there were others, where Kaylee was fed first, leaving cold food for the adults to eat.

Many nights were spent with hearing cries coming from a room at the top of the stairs. It wasn’t the baby. It was the mother. Exhaustion and stress from trying to understand what had gone wrong finally tore at her soul. In order to strip herself and start with a new heart she would cry herself to sleep.

On one trip to the grocery store Mom bought a box of Fruit Loops. The next morning instead of giving the usual jar of baby food she placed the colorful rings in a bowl and sat it on Kaylee’s high chair tray.

Kaylee studied the pieces and touched them. She started to giggle then she would pick up each piece and lay it outside of the bowl. She was happy. Her Mom could do nothing other than sit at the table and be amazed by what she saw.

It was as if Kaylee was fascinated by the different colors. After playing with the pieces she then put one in her mouth and soon was reaching for three or four at a time. Mom smiled as this was a rare treat. She wanted to savor every moment.

From that day forth Fruit Loops were the breakfast choice for happiness. Mom studied books and researched the internet for ways to add color to a boring meal. In no time at all, peace was floating throughout the house. Screaming had faded in  memories.

As Kaylee grew older she was surrounded by colorful toys and teddy bears. Her room was done in bright pink colors. Even her clothes were bright and cheery. The parents never knew what color and happiness had to do with each other, but they were happy to do what ever it took.

Today many years later these parents are standing in a large auditorium, taking pictures and clapping hands as their only daughter crosses the stage to receive her diploma. She had soared through college and had been financially taken care of by two scholarships.

In two weeks she was going to be starting her new life in a career of being a teacher, an art teacher.

For His Wife’s Sake


She sat on the curb watching the other kids play. She had a tank top on that was too tight. She was old enough to be wearing a bra but she didn’t own one. This shirt definitely showed her need of one.

Her shorts were too short and they cut off her waist. She kept sucking in her gut to try to gain some room so the button  would quit digging in her skin but she couldn’t  hold her breath that long.

Her shoes had holes in the tops and she could see her big toe wiggling out of the top. She had no socks on so her heel blisters were burning  bad. She did the best to comb her hair before she went out the front door, but it was hot, and she needed a ponytail holder.

She felt like she didn’t fit in. No one liked her and no one ever said a word to her. Her mother sat home with a bottle attached to her hand. She could care less about anything except that she had the drink in her.

Her father had left her mother years ago because her mother was a drunk. But why did papa leave me behind too? Why didn’t he take me with him? Mother doesn’t like me either.

As thoughts twisted through her mind tears began to fall. She took her dirty hand and wiped them away. The kids at the park took no notice of her. She had one friend but since school was out for the summer she wouldn’t see her until school started again.

Across the street from the park a woman cried her heart out as she watched the little girl each day. She and her husband wanted a child so bad, but she was barren. Here was a child who obviously was not wanted and she wanted a child.

That night at the supper table the wife  told her husband about the little girl on the curb. Her husband saw the pain in his wife’s eyes. He knew how bad she wanted a child. He wasn’t sure if he could adopt or not. Could he love someone else’s child like his own?

He asked his wife when she usually saw the child and his wife said she sat at the park most of the mornings. She must go home around lunch time. He thought well I guess I can get a look at this kid. It’s the least I can do for my wife.

The next day he cancelled one of his meetings and left for home early. When he walked in the front door he saw his wife standing in the bay window crying. He looked to where she was looking and saw the child.

For a brief moment sadness tore at his heart when he saw her tattered clothes. He looked at his wife whom he loved so much and said, “Come on, let’s take a walk over there. Maybe we can find something out about her.”

His wife smiled and the two walked over holding hands. They stood beside the child who turned and looked up at them. She quickly turned back the other way. The two strangers sat down on the curb beside the child. All three stared off in the distance. No one said a word.

Wife

Finally the wife asked, “I see you here every day. Could I ask your name?”

Mary

“That’s a beautiful name Mary. Don’t you want to go over and play with the kids?”

“No, no one wants to play with me.”

“Well my name is Sue and this is my husband Ed. We will play with you. Would you like to swing?”

Mary shook her head yes and stood up. Ed watched his wife pushing Mary on the swing. Then noticing the time he told Sue he had to get back to the office. Sue told Mary, “We have to go now. Did you enjoy that?”

Yes

“Would you like me to come back and swing with you tomorrow?”

“Yes”

Ed didn’t know what to think. He had seen the lonely eyes in the little girl and he saw the yearning in his wife. He thought about Mary throughout the day and he finally decided he would take his lunch break at 11am from now on. He would at least try to get to know this child for his wife’s sake.

A few weeks of this routine went on, and Mary opened up a little more all the time. She confessed that she had to be home from the park by a certain time or her Mother would come looking for her. She told Sue and Ed about her mother and the bottle. She even told them about her sore tummy due to her tight shorts. She explained about her one friend but she wouldn’t be able to see her until school started.

Ed’s heart kept dropping off pieces of wall each week. He began to picture Mary eating supper with them and tucking her in bed at nights. One day when his day was not so rushed he made a call to  his attorney.

In a matter of a month the child’s Mother signed the paper giving up custody. He walked into his home and found Sue sitting by the bay window rocking. He handed her the papers and she read them.

She tossed them on the floor and jumped up giving her husband the biggest hug possible. She grabbed his hand and they raced over to the park. They came upon Mary and this time Mary was smiling at them as they came closer.

They all sat together on the curb. Ed looked at Mary and said, “I can see that your life has not been very good so far Mary. Would you like a chance at having a different life? Maybe some new clothes and new shoes?”

Mary looked at them with hungry eyes. She nodded her head yes but the fear of hope kept her from speaking. Sue patted her lap and asked Mary if she would like to sit on her lap. Mary jumped up and sat in Sues lap. Sue put her arms around the child and hugged her close. She asked,”Mary, Ed and I would love to have a child, but God just didn’t want us to. Now I know why, he knew that we would meet you. Would you like to come and live with us?”

Mary leaned into Sues chest and softly said yes. “Well come on then. Let’s go to your new home and have some lunch. I will show you your new bedroom and then you and I will go shopping for some new clothes.”

With Mary in the middle, Sue and Ed on either side, they walked hand in hand with hearts beaming, smiles showing and love pouring out for all to see.

http://www.youcaring.com/medical-fundraiser/too-much-pain-and-too-little-money/55964

Business Man

-Poor girl-

My Brother’s Life Journey Chapter 8


Al never did move a way from the family home again. I think Mom had just had enough. Him being so homesick and then the nasty movie he was watching. I felt Mom believed he was better off at home with her watching over him and keeping him in a good church.

By now I was back from Germany and my husband and I and our daughter had rented a small home about a mile or two from my parents. It was out in the country and I loved it, but I loved more that I was close to Mom and Dad.

Life went about the same for several more years. People got sick and healed. There were birthday celebrations and the holidays. Mom used to make Al and me an angel food cake. She would use this frosting recipe called Seven Minute Frosting.

Original recipe makes 2 layer (filling and frosting)
  •  

    2
    egg whites

  •  

    1 1/2 cups
    white sugar

  •  

    1/3 cup
    cold water

  •  

    1 1/2 teaspoons
    light corn syrup

  •  

    1 teaspoon
    vanilla extract

Directions

  1. Put egg
    whites, sugar, water and syrup in top of double boiler. Beat until
    mixed well. Place over rapidly boiling water. Beat constantly with
    electric beater while it cooks for 7 minutes or until it will stand in
    peaks when beater is raised. Remove from heat. Add vanilla. Beat.
    Fills and frosts 2 layer cake, 8 or 9 inch.

We  kids loved this frosting. The first day you ate it, it was so light and fluffy. Mom would tint it blue for Al and pink for me. With the size of an angel food slice and all that heaping frosting it was a kids delight. She also added those candy decorations on top. Remember those? They came on a piece of white paper that you wet the back and then the candies came off. They had letters and flowers and candle holders. When you are a kid biting down on those crunchy candies was so much fun.

Christmas was so much fun. Al got trains for Christmas to help him get over his fear. I got baby dolls. I remember getting a Baby Thumbelina one year and another year I received Chatty Cathy.

Mom and Dad loved buying us gifts at Christmas. Dad got the biggest kick out of watching us open our gifts. He loved to Christmas shop. Our special gifts were always unwrapped under the tree and I can still see Al and I racing to the tree to pick up Santa’s big gift.

One year Al and I opened a home-made marble game. Al was fascinated by it much more than me. He would spend hours and hours dropping the marbles down the maze of zig-zag shaped slots. All the marbles would eventually end up in the bottom in a flat tray. Then he would do it over and over.

We always spent the holiday with all of our family. Then through the year as the family got smaller we started going to Mom and Dad’s on Christmas Eve. By now I had my own family and we always enjoyed her home-made lasagna and home-made candies.

Then when it was all over my family would go home and put our kids to bed. After they were asleep we would finish doing their gifts for the next morning.

Al lived at home so he and Mom and Dad would have their own little Christmas in the early morning. Al never knew what to buy anyone. He would go to our Grandma’s, our mom’s mother and she would write down ideas for him. He still struggled, so one gift per person was written and then he would go buy it. Grandma would always wrap his gifts for him and he would tuck them under the tree.

Life changed for Al quite a bit when Granddad passed a way. There was no one but Grandma who went out of their way to help Al with all the problems he had. Mom worked and so did Dad. Granddad had Al with him all the time, and then suddenly he was gone.

Our whole family changed. Al was more alone and there was so much sadness floating through out the house. Now when Al went to Grandma to talk or get help with a problem for a few years she just was lost without her spouse and we became lost in her world too. Not by choice but she was mourning.

Dad had to start doing more for Grandma plus his own job and I think he became tired. He started jumping on Al’s case easier and it became more often than before. Mom spent her free time with her mom who was still mourning. I didn’t live there any longer, and our

"angel food cake pan"

half-sister never got along with Al.

I know for me I was so jealous of our sister. Even though I understand much better now that I am older, I didn’t get it then. She got new clothes from more expensive stores. In fact, she got almost everything she wanted. She went with friends a lot. She seemed to have quite a few over nite parties. While Al and I were much more quiet. But we have to remember that Al and I were ten years older than our new sister. We had been taught to be quiet, while the sister was laughing and much louder.

I think Al never knew what to think of her. As he saw himself getting yelled at for being stupid, he never saw her in trouble. I think in Al’s mind this bothered him and he felt less wanted than he should have. He always felt like he was the bad kid and he was in the way.

Blood That Follows


In my family Al and I had very few blood relatives. I know that to some this isn’t very Blue_candleimportant. To me it was, because I liked knowing that I belonged somewhere.

Al and I had our dad and my dad’s one sister and my dad’s mother.

I had stored a bowl that was left to me by my grandma and I received it this weekend. I also have photos of my family. I thought I would share with you. It also gives you a little bit more insight as to why my brother means so very much to me. He and I are real brother and sister.

grandma's bowlThis belonged to my grandma’s side of the family. I will treasure it always.

alvin and meThis is Al and me after we started our new life with our dad and stepmom.

alvin graduation pictureThis is Al on his graduation day.

dad's dadThis is my dad’s dad.

grandma and grandpa taylorThis is my grandma and my real grandpa.

four generation picThis is a generation picture. My dad is the baby in the photo.

my mom and dadThis is my stepmom and my dad about five years before they passed a way.

my kids when they were youngThese are my kids when they were young.

 

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Daily Prompt; Your Time to Shine


Bedtime for Pus

 

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Early bird, or night owl?

 

My Mom told me one time when I was still living under my parents roof, that one day I would change. I would hate going to bed late and sleeping late.

 

I never did change but altered some due to age, worries and stress.

 

I was one who could sleep until noon no matter what time I went to bed when I was in my teens. When I reached my twenties I could not do it any longer. I had a children, but I missed it dearly. When the kiddies would spend the night at Grandma’s house, I slept in. Oh that was so nice.

 

In my thirties and forties I was going through difficult emotional times with marriages and I was a quick change artist. I could get up if I had to with no problem. But emotions ran high so some days I would seem to sleep forever.

 

Now in my late fifties, I have had the biggest change. My doctor blames it on being older and stress and worries. I am tired too often. Some days you will knock at my door in the middle of the afternoon and my eyes will be filled with little sleepies where I was napping.

 

At bedtime I am tired but can not sleep. I will stay up until around 2am watching King of Queens or the Golden Girls. I force myself to lie down and close my eyes, but they pop up often during the night.

 

When early morning comes and dawn is beginning to break my eyes are once again open and I am ready to get up. I often do this too. I will be up for a couple of hours and then I am ready to take a nap.

 

It is so silly and yet it seems to happen often. This has been going on pretty much since Al left. I think there are parts of  me that not only worry about him but maybe more that I miss him.

 

When he comes home he and I will have to be up at 6am. He will need to be on the transportation bus by 7:30 and I believe it will take that long to get him around and include breakfast, but I don’t mind. I will adjust and I will have my brother back home with me.

 

 

 

My Brother’s LIfe Journey, Chapter 1


Sit

Al is my brother. I am one year and two weeks older than he is. Telling this story will hopefully help others who are struggling in their own lives to see that I am here and you are never alone.

It was May 3rd 1955 when a little baby boy was born. He did not come into the world welcomed as many children do. He came born into the world as an innocent babe by parents who had major issues of their own.

He was born with brain damage. He was the second of two children and this lead to lack of care needed to help a baby grow. As I remember back in my memories I don’t remember him that young. But the truth comes out over time and I will tell you what I was told.

When Al was old enough to sit in a high chair he was placed there and ignored. No adult supervision. Al was able to maneuver himself up and over the high chair and fell different times causing more damage to the head.

Both Al and I were abused. In those days it was not called abuse. It was a family secret that was only spoken in strange moments. Al was abused more than me. I think I was not necessarily wanted more than he. I believe it is because one baby is easier than two.

Our parents were not in control of their own lives. With their young ages there was lack of training and maybe a feeling of entrapment over being strapped with two babies and a job that could not take care of all the needs within a family.

Parents of the parents stepped in and made opinions known. Guilt became an obsession and the need to escape became utmost in the minds of our parents. Our Mother didn’t work because she was too young. She was 15 when she had me and 16 when she had Al.

Dad worked at a bowling alley and hid behind the bottle when not at work. I have heard horror stories of how loud fights and beer bottles flew over our heads as we seemed to be always in the middle of all arguments.

One day our Mom took off with us kids. She didn’t tell a soul she was leaving. When Dad found out she was gone his Mother was grateful but insisted he get us kids back. I don’t know who Mom left with. I assume a friend took her. At her age she wouldn’t have had many adult friends to turn to. Back in those days being pregnant and unmarried was taboo so I am sure the conversations were limited.

I know that while we were prisoners of my Mom’s travels she had no money. She did what ever was necessary to survive. I don’t know how she fed and clothed us kids but I do know that she sold me to different people to earn money when I was about two years old. I shudder to think what may have happened to Al also. There are parts of me that don’t want to know. It is possible that Al can remember but it is so deeply hidden in his mind we may never know.

The Welfare department did eventually find us and return us to our Dad who was by now living back with his parents. Al and I were welcomed by the fact that we were the “kids”. I am not ever going to swear that we were united because of a great love.

I can remember sitting at my Grandmother’s table and Al sitting in my Dad’s high chair. He would be crying. He seemed to cry a lot to me. Even as a young child I can remember many tears and yelling episodes.

Grandma would tell him, “Be quiet. I can’t stand that noise. I wish you would just shut up”. I know that somewhere inside this house the word caring was lingering throughout. I know that my Grandparents took Al to the biggest children’s hospital in our state to find out what was wrong with him.

I can remember them telling other family members that he couldn’t sit up properly for his age. That he should be walking now but wasn’t. The hospital confirmed that he was mentally challenged. He also suffered from Rickets and he was malnourished.

I don’t think I was near as bad as he was medically. I do remember Grandma stuffing vitamins and eye droppers  filled with  Iron to each of us kids. I am sure that we were both fed much better than we were before.

Al slept downstairs where my Grandparents slept. Our Dad still worked at the bowling alley and came home very late. I remember that I slept in a baby bed for probably too many years. I also remember that my Dad slept in the big bed next to my crib.

Eventually Dad met our new Stepmother. After being married they moved to the town that Al and I now reside in. Visits came from our real Mom and I can still see me hiding behind the living room chair taking peeks at my real Mom and hearing them arguing about how she was going to come back to get me when I reached the age of 16. There was never a mention of coming back to get Al too. I can remember feeling confused and not understanding why she would only ask for me when I had a brother.

Dad then got a job at the State Highway Department and I think our new Mom worked at one of the local grocery stores. I remember she took us to a baby sitter. I knew fear even at the age of four. This babysitter was mean. I could see her smack Al for crying and I had to sit on a chair.

Yet there was a familiarity to this also. Al and I were not allowed to be kids when we lived at our Grandparents either. We had to sit on chairs and be very quiet. Neither of us knew what sunshine was or running and playing outdoors felt like.

 

The Ugly Duckling


Embarrassing parents - swan duckling

Embarrassing parents – swan duckling

Everyone made fun of David. He was born premature but ended up being an obese child. From the time he started Kindergarten he was teased. Fatty fatty two by door can’t get through the kitchen door. Hey watermelon boy.

Even when he was home there was no place to run. His parents picked on him and made rude comments about his weight. The more he was ridiculed the more he remained in his bedroom. He did his homework and ate in his room.

As he got older he would play his music  loud enough to drown out all noises in the house. His nice bike that his grandparents had bought him for his birthday was used primarily for going back and forth to school.

When Grandpa and Grandma would invite him over to their house for an over night visit; this is the only solace he received. They didn’t judge him. In fact they offered him many snacks all being healthy. They made David feel very special; like he was the only kid in the world.

On his 13th birthday he made up his mind he was going to lose the extra weight. Instead of racing home on his bike he remained behind and ran the track behind the school. At home he measured out his own food making sure he didn’t go over the limits of calories.

He went to sleep earlier so the urges to snack were removed. On the weekends he walked around his neighborhood until he was walking two miles each day. Kids at school started noticing and little by little girls were turning  his way.

This gave him even more gumption to keep on pushing himself. He was no longer running the track for a half an hour. He was now running for over an hour after school. The weight dropped quickly. Everyone around him was now paying him big compliments.

His parents took him to the store for clothes shopping. He was able to pick out more modern and up to date clothing. Sometimes when he looked in the mirror he had to take a double look to recognize himself.

One day he was running the track and he collapsed. It was a good thing that the coach had his team out practicing for baseball. One of the team members noticed David on the ground and yelled,” David’s down Coach. Come on everybody, let’s go check him out.”

When the coach checked for a pulse he could barely feel it as it was so soft. He told one of the kids,” Run as fast as you can and have the office call 911.” Soon the ambulance had arrived and found David barely breathing.

They rushed him to the hospital where they discovered he had suffered from a heart attack. Wow, at 13, a heart attack. Several tests were taken and when the results all came back the doctor sat down with the parents of David.

” David has definitely had a heart attack. He has over worked  his heart at his young age. What would make him want to over exert himself to this point? Do either of you know?”

The parents looked at each other and hung their heads down saying, ” No we don’t have any idea why he did this. He wanted to wear clothes that mainly skinny kids wore is all we know.”

The doctor looked at them and he knew by their guilty looks that they had placed the idea in David’s head that he was ugly and fat. He told them, ” Well I am not sure what is going on in the home but a change is needed. He is dehydrated and his blood levels are low. To have a heart problem at this age is unreal.”

He stood up and went back to watch over David. The parents sat out in the waiting room saying nothing. Their guilt eating them up for helping this to happen to their son.

When the doctor went home that night he was telling his family at supper about the young David. One of his daughters asked,” Dad, who is it? What grade is he in? Do we know him?”

” I can’t reveal his name. It is against policy but I can tell you he is around your age.”

The daughter said, ” We have this one kid. Everyone picks on him all the time. The kid’s name is David. He just loves to eat and got himself so fat we all sort of teased him. I know it was wrong Dad, but you just couldn’t help it when you saw him waddling down the school halls. But he has changed. He decided to lose some weight and now he is looking really good. He fits in with the rest of us.”

The doctor hung his head in shame. My own daughter played a part in this. I thought I taught her better than this.

” Everyone has a reason for being different. Whether it is our skin color or our weight, we all have the same hearts. We all feel pain and hurt the same. We all want to feel wanted and needed. No one wants to be made to feel different” Dad said.

” I am ashamed of you. I thought I taught you better than that. How would you feel if you were David? asked the Doctor.

Tears started to fall from her cheeks as she realized what she had done to this student. She had known better but didn’t want to look out-of-place by standing up for David when her friends were making fun of him.

Without the Doctor saying his patient’s name everyone at that dining table knew it was David. The table got very quiet as they finished eating.

About a month went by and David was able to return to school. He had suffered no permanent damages. His age had protected him. When he rode his bike to school and entered the front doors he saw banners hanging from the ceiling.

Each one of them said “Welcome Back David”. There were colorful balloons with streamers hanging from them placed all over the commons. There were arrows pointing towards the auditorium. Strangers to David walked up to him and told him to follow them.

David did as he was told but wondered what in the world was going on. When they entered the double doors they were welcomed by the entire school. All the kids and teachers stood up and started clapping.

Two students guided him to the front and lead him up on the stage. The Principal went to the microphone and welcomed David back to school. David’s classroom went up to the microphone and publicly apologized to David for the way they had treated them. After each student had spoken he was shocked beyond belief.

The two biggest kids that picked on him walked towards him and handed him a trophy. It was a big gold statue of a boy standing with his head held high. He was holding books in one hand and waving with his other hand. The words on the trophy said, To the Most Honorable Student.

David looked at the trophy with tears in his eyes. All of the disappointments and bullying had vanished. He looked up and out over the audience and said, ” Thank-you everybody. I don’t know what to say but thank-you.”

The student body stood up and clapped and cheered him. There was never a lesson they had been taught that school year as important as the one they had learned from David.

 

Daily Prompt; Perspective/ The Daily Post


Do You Really Want to Hurt Me

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Daily Post

Dp

Write about the last disagreement you had with a friend or family member — from their perspective.

I don’t know about you but the only people I disagree with and try so very hard not to get into arguments are with my children. Isn’t is a sad thing? I hear that families disagree more than any other unit out there.

My kids they really love me and they are not afraid to voice their thoughts when they see me heading towards murky waters. I realize that they know me pretty darn well. I understand that they want the best for me. I have even heard them tell me they want me to be happy.

It is actually the best thing about having children in my eyes. They may not come visit near enough in my book of rules. But they are the cat’s meow in my life. Showing me unconditional love.

I absolutely hate it when we tar and feather each other. Like chickens we peck at each other trying to sway us that they are right and I am wrong. Our beaks hurt each other and leave small scars beneath the surface.

I get both sides. They are the children wanting the best and I am the mom. I have made it all through my life with the only boss that really made me listen were my parents. I have gone through marriages and divorces and am still standing.

I have dealt with so much crap with my brother that I should only be found by using a fork lift and sifting through the manure. So it only makes sense that my children realize my  pain and  grief. They want to take care of me from a distance so to say.

They don’t live with me. They do not see what my eyes do. Nor do they hear what I hear. None the less it is awesome to know that they love me enough to throw their two cents in. If they ever quit doing this I will be worried for sure. Silence can mean lack of caring.

I just wish the poisoned darts were not tossed at each other. We are all sharp shooters never missing the target. We each know exactly where to throw those darts that will cause the biggest pain. They aren’t really trying to hurt me. They are trying to do what they can to wake me up to what they are trying to express.

Being a mother is not just giving birth. It is to include changing dirty diapers, pacing the nights trying to calm a crying baby. Feeding and doctor’s appointments. Educating and nurturing. You have a big party when you watch them walk to receive their diplomas.

In a way that is only the first couple of stages of having a child. When they are grown and move out of the nest they still need you. It is just in different ways. They need and have the right to know that parents still love them. Realizing that we would lay our lives down for them in order not to have them hurt as we were.

But in the end after all the love is shown and tears are shed together, the ultimate hurt is the disagreements. But we have to go through these moments in order to keep growing in our love for each other. I love ya kids!!!!!!!

Bullying, Drugs, Guns and Family


Ink pink... Bullies stink!

Ink pink… Bullies stink! (Photo credit:

Roseanne is making some noise in the background while I sit here. The episode that I am listening to perked me up enough to actually let my fingers rest and turn my eyes to the television.

The family is having problems, but when aren’t they? This one is based on a family in the eighties trying to make IT work. Overtime is the issue. Although Dan and Roseanne realize the overtime will help it also trickles over into what to do with the kids. How do we all get fed and who is doing what on the house chores category.

They were all in the kitchen discussing options when Dan realizes Becky  isn’t present. He calls her so she is involved also. That is the point where I was having my own flash backs in my life.

I went back to when I was around the age of 10 up to the age of 15 or so. There were only one set of rules at my house. They were known as the Parent Rules. I had no choices in some matters of the house.

I was expected to babysit my baby sister. I was expected to clean the house. Do the laundry and ironing. I was expected to cook what ever mom had laid out in the morning. It was a known fact that I should never come home with less than a C on my report cards. I would never be called down to the school office or I could expect worse when I got home. My parents picked out the style of clothes I wore. I got to pick the colors.

Bills and finances were never discussed in front of us children. Mom and Dad discussed everything that had to do with our family behind their bedroom doors. I never heard screaming or arguing between the two until I was around 17. This may also be that I was older and more in tune with sounds other than from my record player.

There were no family meetings. Where we ate or went in the car was always my parents decisions. We just went along with no questions asked. Our family was not run like a tight ship but it was not an open family either. We were good kids and we had good parents.

But seeing this show helps me see  how much life and families have changed. I remember somewhere in the eighties kids were no longer considered kids to parents. They had a new title called friends. Parents were wanting to be friends with their off spring instead of the leader and tour guide.

I wonder what I would have thought if my parents called us kids in for a family meeting. Maybe it was the yearly house insurance bill that was coming due. Would they ask us to give up something in order for them to make that big bill? What would we think? Would we understand?

My parents figured out everything. I grew up thinking that our family was above others. We had no problems. We had no money issues. We lived in a very nice home. We went to church every Sunday.

There were no classes in high school in my day that taught budgeting or finances. Nothing to teach me about saving for an apartment. How to pay the utility bills. Was having a phone a luxury? Or was having enough food to buy groceries more important?

I learned a lot through many mistakes how to make money and time work for myself when I left the family nest. Would I have gotten married later than sooner if I knew more about how life worked? I don’t know and it doesn’t matter now. None of us can go back and change what has already been done.

So I am asking you these questions. Do you think it is better to be more involved as a youth in family matters concerning money? Should kids be able to see that money can be a juggling act? Or should kids be kept hidden like we were? Last question is should parents be the tour guide or the friend?

That last question always makes me ponder. I look at the troubled teens today. Many are brought up to raise themselves. The drug issue is definitely bigger than it was in my day. I am not saying there wasn’t a drug issue then. It is bigger and many more types of drugs now than ever. Easy access seems to be a big issue.

Where do these kids get all the money to buy these drugs and even the guns? Were drugs discussed in the home? Were gun dangers taught at home? I never knew about guns really. I knew they were used for hunting. Drugs were for medical illness.

When I was 17 I learned the most about illegal drugs when a student in my graduating class overdosed and died. Anything else I learned was from head line news or people talking. Along with drugs and guns is now a bigger issue than ever, bullying.

So in closing of my thoughts what should be taught at home versus our schools and friends?