Posted by 1inMany
(here)
This is not a story about me, it is a story about the power of love.
A few years ago, I was going about my daily life when I got a phone call from my niece, Melinda. It was quite out of the blue, as I had not seen her since she was a little girl and she was now a grown woman of 22 with two small children. She wanted to make the four hour drive and come visit. My girls, being 14 and 11, were bouncing off the walls with excitement. In fact, only in the midst of this kind of excitement can a four bedroom house get clean in two hours…days before the visit. As her visit approached, she called to ask if it would be okay if she brought her older sister, Brianna, who we had also not seen in years. Little did we know our lives would be drastically changed for the next six months by this little change in plans.
About four hours into the visit, when evening was setting in, Brianna began to open up about her current life situation. She had three baby boys, twins about 18 months old and another about 8 months old. What a handful! The father of these boys, with whom she and they lived, was a drug addict. His drug of choice was heroin, but anything he could get his hands on would suffice. She had found the toddling twins playing in one of the bathrooms with used syringes, needles intact and uncovered. This man believed the boys needed discipline, and his idea of discipline was to give them a harsh beating followed by placing them in their cribs for hours. She had very few maternal instincts, but she did want to go and comfort them. He would not allow it. This man had a habit of disappearing for days at a time, during which escapades had as much unprotected sex with “crack whores” as he wanted. He had once held Brianna by the neck up against the wall until she passed out. When she came to he was having sex with her. And, sigh, he had also raped her on occasion.
Upon hearing about how her life had unfolded, my heart was broken. Truly broken. But what sent me over the edge was when I found out that those baby boys were at home with him while she came to visit. And they were alone with him. She had no other way to ask for help. She had to walk to a pay phone to make contact with anyone, all three babies in tow, and of course she never had enough money for diapers let alone for a pay phone plus the paranoia of getting caught was debilitating. So in order to reach out to anyone, she had to leave them behind. Within an hour, Brianna and I were in my car on a four hour road trip.
I will skip the ordeal of how we got the babies, it involved Children’s Services, his out of town family, and a lot of fast talking. They didn’t have a chance when MamaBear came out. We left that state with all three boys. It was a very light trip, as the boys owned no toys or books. I think we got the playpen and some bottles. And that was the darkest house I have ever stepped foot in. In my entire life. The twins had cribs in one bedroom, with one window that was covered. I know there were Angels watching over us that night, as Brianna and I slept on the living room floor. (If that bastard thought I was going to walk out of that house without those children, he was sadly mistaken.) Two of the boys took to me like white on rice The third, one of the twins, was special. I gave Brianna the baby and I knelt down to meet the second twin. Brianna said, “Don’t be offended, he really does take to people quickly.” I looked at this little Angel, he looked into my soul and smiled. And ran into my arms. Brianna’s jaw was on the floor, but I was not surprised. What did surprise me, though, was that this was the only smile I saw out of any of the three of them for the next week.
I took Brianna under my wing and taught her what it is to be a Mom. She had never known how. As a result, these children did not smile. They did not giggle or laugh. And they did not speak. All they knew to do was cry. And all she knew to do was spank, though she knew the man had gone too far.
In the time they were in my care, Brianna learned the joy of having children. The children learned to talk, to giggle, to tickle, to play, to dance, to behave (with not one finger laid on them in my house). Brianna learned how to care for another human being, how to nurture, how to get mundane chores done with three babies…things like doing dishes and cooking while the baby bounced in the seat blabbering happily and the twins sang songs and “helped.”
When that was in place, I helped her find a job. She not only learned to love, she excelled at it. Oh, she was an exhausted ball of nerves, for sure. But she was doing it all…taking care of her children in every way, being a loving and doting and nurturing and fun Mom while working and keeping up after every single need everyone had. Then came a place of her own.
You might wonder what ever happened to her. Does it matter? I mean, really matter? She never forgot a single thing she learned while she lived with us, and still once in a while I hear from her how grateful she is to know how to adore her children. That’s what matters.
I have never felt so grateful in my life as I am to have had some little part in that “miracle.” Not me, but through me.
Re: Blank Canvas
Raw and powerful story. Thank you, Bob.
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