Now, wrap your minds around my tale...
A sandy-haired, four year old little girl is sitting on a swing, kicking the ground with the toe of her scruffy play-shoes to set the swing in slow, steady motion. Her hair is hanging down both sides of her lowered head. She takes a deep breath and lets it out in a whoosh which blew her hair away enough to see a large tear fall and hit her knee.
A few feet away, a similarly sandy-haired, five year old little boy is standing and watching his little sister. He wants to play but she looks sad. He walks over to his little sister and stops in front of her. "Whats wrong, sissy?", he questions. She glances up at him and says, "Nothing". He huffs and replies, "If nothings wrong, why are you cryin' then?". "I said nothing, leave me alone!" she yells, and then returns her gaze to the dirt. "Ok, fine. I'll go tell Mom that you're being mean!" he says, as he turns to walk away. "NO! I'll tell you but promise you wont tell?" she pleads. "Ok, Promise!" he responds, triumphantly.
As the little girl spilled her secret, her brothers eyes filled with tears. He stepped closer to his little sister, thinking he could protect her in some way. The wrongness of what she was telling him sent chills down his small spine and hate into his heart. "Come on sissy, we have to tell Momma." The little girl stands up now, with fear in her heart, and stammers out, "B-but I can't! I sweared I wouldn't tell! He won't love me anymore!" Her big brother steps closer, took her hand, and said, "Sissy, you have to tell. It's not OK for Daddy to do that! I'll go with you and I'll hold your hand."
A brave, but scared, little boy, holding the hand of his terrified little sister walk into the house together. Momma is sitting on the recliner, watching her shows on T.V. Big brother and little sister go to stand in front of her. At first, Momma tries to look around them to see the screen. Then she noticed the tears running down the faces of her babies. "Whats wrong? Did someone get hurt?" she asks the teary-eyed children. "Sissy has something to tell you, Momma." The little girl looks at her big brother who nods at her and squeezes her hand, letting her know that it was ok and he would be right beside her.
A loving, concerned Momma listens quietly as her little girl tells her a tale involving herself and her Daddy. A painful and humiliating tale that will result in the loss of her Daddy's love. The little girl sobs through the story. The moment of realization hits and Mommas eyes take on the look of terror. She stands up and starts screaming. Her hands fly to her head and she starts ripping her hair out, a handful at a time, and dropping it to the floor, as her children watch. 'MY BABY!!' she is thinking, 'MY BABY!!! HOW COULD HE??? OH GOD, MY BABY!!!' Within the span of a few seconds, Momma has her daughter in her arms and her son by the hand and she is running down the street. 'I HAVE TO FIND A PHONE!' she is thinking. You see, they had no phone at home. She ran about a half a mile down the street and used a neighbors phone to call her mother, the childrens Granny, who in turn called the police.
A horrified, praying Granny drives to pick up her daughter and her two grandbabies and takes them to their Grandma's house (Granny's mom). A female police officer met the whole family there to question them. The little girl repeats her tale to the nice policewoman. The policewoman squats down in the floor in front of the little girl and gets close enough to hear her quiet, little voice.
A caring policewoman, who probably has children of her own, listens quietly to the little girls tale as she fights back tears. A decision is made to send the little girl to the hospital for a "check-up". They place the little girl on a hospital bed. She is surrounded by caring doctors and nurses and she is terrified!! They give her something that calms her down and proceed with their "check-up". "She won't remember any of it. She's too young to remember..." Too young to remember? Hmm...
At that same moment, the little girls daddy is being taken to jail to await trial. HIS mother insists that the little girl must have made it up. Who wants to believe their son would do something like that? The little girls mother must have put her up to it!! Denial lasted for some time, but acceptance and sorrow were inevitable.
The doctors suggest that the little girl go see a psychologist. The little girl refuses so, rather than insisting and upsetting her, Momma encourages her to talk about it. Momma wants nothing more than to see her husband rot in hell, but she tries to hide it. She wants no part of her feelings to pass to her daughter. Momma never understood how much she was helping her little girl. The little girl didn't need someone who knew nothing about her to talk about what happened. The little girl wanted her Momma, plain and simple. She knew Momma hated him. She remembered seeing the hair fall to the floor. That image would never fade away.
Momma, and her two little ones, move in with Granny and Papa. They have a small, two bedroom house, that Papa built. Life was good. Momma worked in the daytime while the little ones stayed with Granny. Life moved on and pain faded, but memories never did.
The little girl chose to forgive her Daddy, two years after the incident. She asked her Momma to take her to buy a gift for her Daddy. Momma took her, even though she didn't understand the little girls forgiveness, and the little girl bought a plaque for her Daddy. On the plaque is a poem about 'Forgiving'. That plaque still hangs on his wall today. Daddy's mom, who didn't want to believe it all, apologized. She apologized for not wanting to believe, for calling the little girl a liar, for accusing her Momma of telling the little girl what to say. She cried tears of sorrow and acceptance for what her son had done.
The little girl, now 30, still remembers the details of that day with strange clarity. Due to her mothers devotion and persistence, she is able to talk about what happened with only the smallest of tears. The tears are more for the pain her Momma went through, rather than what she went through herself. She thanks God every day for a big brother who didn't like to see his little sister cry and who knew right from wrong. If not for him, who knows how long it would have continued, unnoticed.
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God, I want my children to feel that they can come to me with ANYTHING! I've raised them in such a way that they KNOW I will listen rather than judge. I pray that they always remember that. God, please keep my relationship with my children as strong as it is today, if not stronger. Amen.
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