From a post at the beginning of my campaign to help the Teddy's of the world, the children abused next door:
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.
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.