Glass Houses

They inferred that I don't put my kids first, and that I don't
contribute to society. They even think that I don't work hard, 'unlike'
them. They think a seven year-old has better scruples than I do. They
told me to stop moaning and do something in my little corner of the
world. They can think whatever they want, this being a free country and
all, but it made me want to lash out at them; they hurt me at my inner
core, my very being. Why? Because I dared to complain, once, in the
form of this poem:

Modern Love
The world used to be so different; with lots of things to
love.....
Love your country, home and family, but mostly God above....
Now love takes on new meaning; with same sex marriages.....
Laws protecting killers, govermental miscarriages......
There's new meaning to the phrase,"Honor your father and
mother,"....
The children have our guns and they're killing off each
other......
They're starving in some places, being bombed in others
still.....
Adults are having sex with kids against their will....
Religious wars are raging ~ all for love of man and God....
If this is modern love, don't you think it to be odd?.....
I do and I don't like it; I long for the olden days......
Why can't the world see that we need to change our ways?

It's just a poem, how could they make judgments about my parenting, or
anything else about me? It made me want to shout at them ~ but there's
so much they don't know, that they aren't making valuable conclusions
and are not qualified to do so, anyway.

They don't know that I formed the city's Tombstone Gang ~ a group of
teens whom I take out at midnight on designated nights, and we clean up
and repair vandalized graveyards. We cement the broken headstones back
together, we right the over turned ones, clean up trash and mow tall
grass. Then we eat Tombstone Pizza at my house when we're done.

They don't know that I've provided well for ten foster children, using
my own money and home to do it. Hell, I even dragged a young prostitute
off the streets and brought her into my home, once.

They don't know that I worked three jobs to support my children after
the old man ran out with the money, and I didn't go on Welfare or
Public Assistance, though I don't have a problem with others spending
that money if they need it. That's what it's there for. I never got any
child support, but I still let the kids see their dad, because that's
more important than any amount of money.

And they don't know that my six year-old daughter was brutally raped
over 80 times by the neighbor's husband, before I found out. He said he
would kill me if anyone found out, so my precious child did what he
said in an effort to save my life, every day, and then hid it from me.
No amount of counseling helped her, though I took her to the meetings
anyway, for years. Now she's so messed up in the head; partly from the
drugs she began using, and she's disappeared from my life. Everytime
they drag a body out of the river, I freeze up until it's been
identified. Thank God it's never her, but I live with it every single
day.

They don't know that I serve dinner at the Homeless Shelter when I can.
And they don't know that I donate food to it, either. Nor do they know
how many years we served as a 'Clean House' for convicted drug
offenders who were released back into society.

They also don't know that I've survived cancer ~ twice! It would have
been so easy to just let go, but I felt there were things left undone,
and I fought hard, and I made it. I didn't leave my kids for someone
else to raise, like many had done to their own children, leaving them
with me.

I even pay my taxes without cheating.

There's alot of things people don't know about me, but I won't bore you
with them all here. I am just words on a screen to them, and it's
really easy for some of them to mow someone else off at the ankles,
leaving behind a bloody stub that they don't have to face again. It's
really not fair of them to make judgements, whether they did know these
things about me, or not. I didn't judge them; I accepted who they are
and what their words say. It's not my place to do otherwise.

I won't go so far as to say I've done my part, though. There is still
so much left to do. But, like you and everyone else here, I am just a
puny Human, and I have feelings and eyes, and sometimes I feel what I
see. Sometimes I write about my triumphs, adventures, joys, and yes,
even the darkness around. I sometimes say just what I'm thinking,
though I may not think the same way after I learn more about whatever
it is. I can do that. It's my prerogative.

So many people have worries and heart-aches, and it really helps them
to receive a little compassion. I know, it's hard to understand if
you've never been hungry, never had to scrape for rent money, or never
had any real hardship other than the death of your great grandmother. I
don't know what your worries or burdens are, but I accept them as yours
and do not try and tell you to live my life instead.

The same people who are telling me to get off my duff and do something
productive, probably consider themselves Christian. No religion teaches
us to discriminate and degrade those not like us. Yes, there's history
that says we are creatures of habit, and what has been done, will be
done again. It doesn't mean I have to like it. And, if I don't like it,
it's okay for me to say so. It doesn't mean I'm helpless, but that I've
noticed something very unpleasant to me, and unlike alot of those
people telling me how to live my life, I don't even try to pretend I
haven't noticed.

When I see someone write something that's sad, or different than what I
might write, I consider two things; For one, they might only be telling
a story or giving an opinion, and the writing may have nothing to do
with how they view or live real life in general. And for another, what
if their heart-ache is true? I'll try to lend some comfort instead of
add to their misery.

My wish for the self-righteous flamers, is that they have a comfortable
bed and sufficient time to get all the rest they need, and enough food
to keep them from getting cranky from hunger. I wish them some
appreciation and approval in their own lives, so they don't have to
lash out at others. And, that there's someone around to give them a
hug, because even though they think differently than I, they sure do
need one!

And lastly, I hope they don't live in glass houses.