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Former resident writes of forgiveness |
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from the December 2001 Newsletter |
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There are hundreds of them now, and not a
single day passes without at least one of them appearing in my
thoughts . . . Jodie, Joe, Michelle, Mary, Cathy, Dustin . . . the
children that are no longer children . . . the young adults who
once passed through the Youth Ranch on their way into the world.
They are now computer technicians, hairdressers, craftsmen,
soldiers, mommies and daddies . . . but, above all, they are
survivors. And
although there are individual things I love about each of the
Ranch graduates, what I love most about them collectively is their
incredible resilience. Most of these remarkable human beings had seen more sorrow in the first ten years of their lives than average adults see in a lifetime, and yet they always seemed to find the strength to pick themselves up and start all over again . . . and again . . . and again. A letter came in the mail today from Jennifer. I remember her well at 16. Dark eyes alive with compassion for others . . . loving to dance, write poetry and sing. And yes, she had a bit of a strong will, which she had certainly needed during the early years of her childhood when the abuse she had suffered was beyond comprehension. Jennifer is probably in her mid twenties now. Her letter told of years of struggles, including a failed marriage and health problems, but my heart was lifted when she wrote of how she had “gotten her life back together,” had a good job, good friends, and a renewed faith in God. I called her to ask if I could use the following poem she wrote recently about her difficult journey toward forgiveness: Mother’s
Day By
Jennifer As
I hug her neck, I whisper in her ear “Happy
Mother’s Day , how do you feel?” She
lies in her bed all day, too weak to stand, The
cancer eating her away, She
barely has the strength to hold my hand. To list the regrets of her life now, would do no good, But
the look in her dying eyes, says she knows She
didn’t love me like she should. Maybe
a letter to say it, or just a hug, Anything
would have been better than all those years Without
a touch of her love. Emotions
rip and tear at my heart, As
I sit watching the mother I’ve just met fall apart. The love and concern should outweigh the resentment and hate, But
it’s too hard trying to figure out how much Her
unshown love molded my fate. So
forget it, I can’t, but forgive her I must, Cause
I can’t go on living in the past, Always
too scared to love or trust. I
swear to myself, I’ll never be like my mother, And
as I let the past go, I whisper in her ear “I
love and forgive you like no other”. A
kiss on the forehead, and a squeeze of the hand, My
prayer begins, as she slips peacefully to sleep, Her spirit to the higher land. |
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By
Carol Priour