The Daily Post: One At A Time

(A paragraph of one syllable words.)

One Hour Out of My Day

On this day I met with a grown girl who had lost her trust. This girl, a mom of five girls, had lost too much of her self. Rape. Theft. Beat up. Shot at and spat out by her man, by the law, by the girls and boys she knew and those she did not know. My heart broke for her. But all I could do was try to hear her. Words came forth from her mouth in a flood. Words did not stop. Tears coursed down her cheeks to her chin and then drop by drop to her lap. “It is my race, my dark skin that made this be,” she spat out much as her man had spat her out, “and what it is to live poor. The law will not help the likes of me or my girls.” I did not know if she spat at me as she spoke, or was it at all the boys and girls she knew and did not know who glared at her, who said she made it be. Rape. Theft. Beat up. Shot at and spat out is no place one wants to be. But what could she do? Who would hear her cry and shout and rage and beg for a life that meant more than what she got. So I heard her, or tried to. But what do I know of these things? What do I know of race when I am white? What is it to be poor when I have food? What do I know of girls and boys who blame the one who was beat down and say she, or he, got what they sought when I have not been beat down but got the good that I sought? The ones who raped or beat or shot the gun walk away and leave the grown girls–the grown girl I met on this day–to trust no more.

 

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6 thoughts on “The Daily Post: One At A Time

    1. I’m learning that listening is the most powerful “technique” I use. If someone feels heard and validated, they tend to navigate their lives to better places. Thanks for taking time to comment. Much appreciated. 🙂

  1. There are tears falling from my face whilst reading your post…………….I have often wondered what it is like to be black, poor, abused..your tale tells me all of that . I have only one remedy…PRAY…pray with her like never before, The Lord is always there to help those in need but they do have to ask…
    Many people might ‘poof’ at the idea of Faith and the Power of Prayer and if your lady is like that suggest that she tries,,she has nothing to lose but so much to gain.
    I shall keep her in my prayers, Can you give me her Christian name so that I can be specific although I think the Good Lord will know who I am talking about.
    May God Bless you for the caring work that you do …..

    1. MissWhiplash, you are the absolute sweetest. ❤ This is the story of many women I work with. The details vary with each person, but the story is sadly one that keeps repeating itself with each client I see. No names. It is enough that you are touched and have chosen to pray. As you say, "the Good Lord will know . . ." Thank you for stopping by and pausing long enough to leave such a touching, sincere and heartfelt response. ❤

  2. “Who would hear her cry and shout and rage and beg for a life that meant more than what she got.” As I read your one syllable words short essay I knew you have found your new calling as a counselor. Rape. Rage. Race. “It is my race, my dark skin that made this be,” she spat out much as her man had spat her out, “and what it is to live poor. The law will not help the likes of me and my girls.”

    As memories of Furgerson still linger, you have poignantly described some of the true feelings of one in deep need. Yes, Cecelia, you met a girl, a mom of five girls, who had lost her trust. But she is fortunate indeed that she met you that day.

    1. Barbara, you are so sweet. Your comment brought a tear to my eye. Yes, I have found my calling. Almost all of my clients are poor and struggling. And they teach me so much. I only hope that my presence helps renew hope for a better way of being. Thank you so much for stopping by and for taking time to leave such a beautiful response.

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