With heavy heart I post today. I review the Teddy case, although, I hardly forget it. I see his brown smiling eyes and wonder at the pain he must have felt. The verbal abuse escalating to physical and sexual abuse till he was murdered. The shame he may have felt at keeping quiet by maybe trying to be a better man in front of his younger twin brothers. The indifferent mother allowed such terror to happen to her sons.
She shed tears from the moment she entered the court room. Where were they before she was caught? Her ex-boyfriend, instead, showed no emotion. Did he think that made him seem manly?
The sentencing is next week. The debate as to what he should get, fifteen years to life to forty one years to life, played in the comments.The worldly part of me says, "Fry him." I look at that reaction with a horror, too. Why do I think I'm better? We all have a dark side to us. I'm reminded in my spirit- All have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God.
I want to do something. I have felt guilty as well. Do I miss seeing abuse? I'm not in situations where I see many children. I wonder in a case like this so close to home, what can I do?
A young woman, closer to the situation than I, was interviewed in the Sharon Herald. She stated she would start a fund, a charity. I e-mailed her that I would help in any way I could and linked her to my articles I had written about Teddy. I never heard back from her.
I will use this blog and whatever platform given to me to raise awareness. But like my rant about raising cancer awareness, is that enough? Can I just post little sayings on Facebook or write here and make a difference? Again, I look at my life. Where do I see children to sound an alarm? Should I volunteer in the school? What do I do personally to help?
The system failed Teddy. He left two school districts because the abuse became noticeable. Neighbors did call and children services couldn't find anything to stick. The police were only called once. His death brought police back on the case, where evidence hidden soon rose to the surface with Zaryl Bush's DNA mixed in with Teddy's blood.
Praying is never a waste of time. I pray for abused children. I pray God will show me how I can make a dent. If only like cancer awareness, my words can get my readers to observe with a greater intensity the children in their life, maybe that is a step. God didn't put this heavy on my heart to feel badly in my cozy little world. Doors will open. I will see the Teddy's and help. I'm not sure how right now. I can't keep quiet.
The second link has a web site to read about signs/symptoms of child abuse.