~ THE 11TH COMMANDMENT ~
~ Such A Pretty Child ~
She was such a pretty child as pretty as could be...the blondest hair and bluest eyes...this little girl of three.
She lived next door and I would often see her playing outside, putting all her dollies in a little red wagon and taking them for a ride.
I often thought how beautiful she would be when she was grown. She was just the cutest thing as she played there all alone.
I only knew her parents from a passing wave or "HI". They did not want to socialize each time that I would try.
I sometimes heard them arguing when I was in my yard. I know the problems people have can sometimes make life hard. I thought they were just loners because they always kept to themselves. They might have thought I was nosey if I tried to offer help.
"They never bother anyone" the other neighbors would say, and the little girl can only go out back to play. You only see them come and go. They never stay outside. You had to wonder when they act like that, "Do they have something to hide?"
One day I heard them arguing much louder then before. As I looked I saw the little girl was standing by the door. Her little face was bruised and tears were running down her cheeks. I wanted to go over there, but I was scared and weak.
Finally, when the screaming stopped and everything was calm, I saw the little girl was being held close by her Mom. Her Mother rocked her back and forth and she was crying too. Just standing there in my backyard...there was nothing I could do.
There was nothing I could do. It would be of little use, cause this Mother and this little girl was suffering from abuse. She had better call someone and get this thing resolved. But...it's not my business and I cannot get involved.
As I spoke with the neighbors about what went on next door, they all agreed...that it was sad and it was something we abhor. But it was something we must overlook...we cannot interfere. But now we sing a different tune as we are gathered here. The neighborhood feels guilty for we looked the other way. Are we all responsible for being here today? We feel the anger and the shame because we just stood by. Knowing now..we could have helped...but we didn't even try.
And now this little three year old, so beautiful to me, is surrounded by her dollies just the way she loved to be. In her little casket with her body limp and frail, her Mom is in intensive care...and her Daddy is now in jail.
The funeral home is quiet because we all now realize...the reason you must get involved is right before our eyes. Abuse, in any form, is something we must all resent...and fight with every tool we have to save our innocent.
(Author Unknown)
