PART OF ME: A FALLEN CHILD

Part of my soul severed by their ruthless oppression, demoralization and exploitation of a frightened and abandoned child. Part of me drowning in detrimental sorrow as a 10 yr. old coerced by the evilness on the streets being drugged and fought off many assaults. Part of me uncertain as to why I had absolutely no parental guidance, no curfew, no meals, no schoolwork nothing necessary for a child only abuse. Part of me remembering my childhood home as dirty, garbage thrown all over, screaming, constant fighting forcing me out to the unforgiving streets. Part of me painfully recalls never able to sleep in that house terrified my father would punch me for no reason and the other person kicking me until I fell. Part of me feels the unrelenting humiliating shameful names father called me were worse than the beatings because I still hear them in my head today. Part of me affirming due to my family’s harmful abuse, I suffered severe malnutrition and rickets by eating only penny candy for all of my meals. Part of me recalls shivering in the cold winters lacking proper clothing, with holes in my shoes, chilled to the bone and looking for a bathroom outside. Part of me remembers as a child I suffered from chronic respiratory illnesses due to sleeping in the freezing cold attic without any heat. Part of me still missing my stuffed teddy bear, my only friend, but mother threw it in the garbage saying it was dirty breaking my heart into pieces. Part of me trying to survive abuse at school wherein the kids ridiculed my torn and soiled uniform while the nuns hit my hands with a ruler until they bled. Part of me feels deprived from the right to have the innocence of a childhood as the cruel savages in my life never allowed it. Part of me wholly unprepared to exist and learn from the merciless and poor streets of New York teaching brutally harsh lessons thereby punishing me. Part of me never moving past being a damaged broken child by the vicious heathens who inflicted unbearable hurt, defeating me again and again. Part of me realizing that I almost died many times during my childhood and teens but every time God grabbed hold of my hand pulled me off the ground. Part of me remembering other forgotten children dealing with depraved characters in our neighborhood while we were trying to escape unsafe homes. Part of me confirms as a young child I was forced out of the house spending all of my time with other troubled kids numbing their sorrow with drugs. Part of me affirms that weeks after my father’s death the females in the house insisted I leave immediately. With my clothes in a garbage bag I left forever. Part of me remembers a small rented room was all I could afford, an old, broken down place with only a box of cereal and tap water for all of my meals. Part of me plagued with life shattering flashbacks of darkness revealing far too many horrific details of what I survived. Part of me still experiencing a fast pounding heart with a lump in my throat to continuously remind me of such a sorrowful and lonely child I still am inside. Part of me split in character one society forced its disfigured creation, the other one barely breathing with weakness in heart, mind, and spirit. Part of me in profound and silent regret for not being strong enough to hear the Lord speaking ever so gently to me. Part of me surrendering to their prejudicial condemnation with no signs of life inside only the soreness of a broken body. Part of me scathed down to the bone by their malicious intent to harm the innocent and weak. Part of me as a child screaming inside with nowhere to go and no one to turn to, no one to show the slightest bit of compassion or humanity. Part of me learning the wicked couldn’t bear that I kept fighting, as I struggled to hide my trials by keeping the Lord inside my heart. Part of me realizing punishing myself was a grave mistake as it was others who caused me to falter. Part of me deeply remorseful for having bled on the truly innocent, especially my sweet and gentle son. Part of me anxiously anticipating that my son and I won’t have enough time together while we still need each other. Part of me incapable of seeing God’s love for me due to the unceasing pain and suffering blinding me in every way and at every turn. Part of me regretful for hanging my head in shame as I did not show faith and trust in God. Part of me concerned that God will allow the remainder of my life to be unremittingly agonizing. Part of me six decades later concluding that God and His love for me is all I ever required! All of me believing that God is my true and devoted father and He will raise me up to the heavens in the end to be by his side!