As A Mother

As A Mother…..

For days now I have been reading posts about child abuse in the blogging world. In silence I read them as the horror of it all totally shakes my belief that there is more “good” in this world than “bad”. What is it that makes men behave like animals? Fathers, brothers, uncles? And what do mothers do when they know that their child is being abused regularly by their husbands or boyfriends? Turn a blind eye? How is it allowed to happen? Children are angels and they are meant to be cherished, loved and kept safe. I try to place myself in their skin and imagine the fear, the dread and the kind of helplessness they experience every time their predator attacks them. Nowhere to run, nowhere to go for help, suffering day and night, lost and frightened angels. I know the enormity of the horrors that they have gone through cannot be imagined, the emotional and psychological scarring and damage haunting them for the rest of their lives. I am a mother of a 17 year old and I have always warned my son about strangers. There have been instances when some stranger has approached him and his friend with a candy or chocolate but they have had the sense to walk away from it. As a mother I have tried to protect him from harm. Mothers are supposed to do that, protect their little ones. They are tigresses when it comes to their cubs being kept away from harm’s way. So what do mothers of children that are abused on a daily basis do? Don’t they realize what is happening or are they scared too and prefer to keep quiet about it?

Awareness of child abuse is still something of a taboo here in India. Incest and abuse have been going on for decades amongst families especially joint families but for most self denial is the best attitude, while the abused grows up haunted by demons. It is only of late that NGOs and organizations are coming up to rehabilitate an abused child but for most it is still preferred to bury your head in the sand and pretend nothing is wrong. I know of mothers who have refused to believe their child and done nothing to put a stop to it, perhaps they cannot accept the fact that it is happening to their child or perhaps they do not want to shake their comfort zone of a happy settled family. I often wonder what these mothers think of when they watch their child. Do they too feel helpless or do they just become desensitized? Or do they unconsciously blame their child for bringing this upon themselves? I really don’t know. I as a mother would have killed or taken my child and run as far away as possible from the beast. What would you as a mother do if you knew this kind of a heinous act was occurring in your home?

This is a poem I came across on the net. I leave you to read it and ponder…..

There is no peace....

The night falls gentle upon the earth

But hard within the heart of a terror-filled child.

There is no peace this night

But a sentry-like awareness of

Every noise, every movement

Within the house.

A silent prayer is taken upon the wings

Of the mourning dove

Who waters the ground below with its tears

Watching puddles form where each drop lands

Forming a new ocean of sorrow.

There is no peace this night.

The tender child draws itself

Into a tiny ball as if to disappear

... Footsteps are heard in the hall

"Please no" is whispered, "Please go" is prayed

As the doorknob quietly turns.

There is no peace this night.

The dove soars higher, shaking sobs within its breast

Penetrating clouds, gliding on wind

Seeking its source

Looking for the Light

Knowing there will be no peace this night.

The shadow falls across

Clenched fists, tousled curls,

Drawn up limbs, eyes squeezed shut

Against the scene about to unfold

Scarcely breathing, knowing

There is no peace this night.

Feverishly winging toward

The rainbow of light and celestial destination,

The dove contracts and gasps with the pain

Of its little charges' spirit

And delivers the message

To the being of Light & Beauty

Who swoops down to grasp the hand of the child

And deliver its pain to another dimension

To be stored until the child is stronger

And able to face the reality of evil on the earth.

The angel cradles her charge,

Gently rocking, while tears stream down her face...

Mixing with the silent tears of the child.

The dove quietly sings its grievous song of mourning

For the lost innocence of this precious tot.

There is no peace this night.

- Pamela Prentiss-Harrison