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Seeing a wrong and doing very little
           to right it. . . 
I’m sure this happens - at least to some of us -
                                      from time to time
But when the wrong involves a defenseless child
           and when we may be that child’s only hope
we absolutely must step in.

when I was a very young adult
              such an opportunity presented itself to me.

I was babysitting for a couple
                whose children ranged in age from one to five.
I think there were three children.
My mind is fuzzy on the details, but well do I remember
          how sometimes, for no apparent reason,
the eldest boy would scream and scream and scream.
At age five, he could barely utter intelligible speech
        and he was not yet toilet trained.
I think there was a daughter, a middle child.
  Apparently if she had problems, they were not as pronounced
      as with her siblings, since I can't recall them.
 Then there was the baby boy, at least sixteen months old
                  and barely crawling (perhaps he did not crawl at all).
He arrived at my house along with a diaper bag and a bottle
                                                        filled with coffee.
Rather taken aback by that, I gave him milk from my fridge.
Explanations from his mother, I can’t recall.
              I was watching two other children as well,
and the screaming child made things difficult for us all.

After a few days (or perhaps it was a week),
my husband and I paid a visit to the parents’ house.
We let them know that I no longer 
                         could provide them with my service.

This all happened in a time 
when abuse of children was not so openly discussed
as it is today. I never saw the children being physically abused.
But their stunted development spoke volumes to me.
Did I even know of child services at that time?
It was so long ago! Why can’t I remember?
I could at least have called my church for some advice.
Did I even do that? I do not think so.
   I could never control the screaming boy,
             but I could have taken that baby 
                        and cuddled him, simply cuddled him
for a longer time than I imagine he ever got cuddled at home.
God only knows where those children ended up today.

I feel ashamed that I did not give more love to them all. 
    Reflecting on regrets, I believe
              my reaction (or inaction) to that sad situation 
                                       to be one of my biggest ones.


Written Oct. 16, 2016 for the Regret Contest of Frank Herrera
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