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Sunday 10 April 2016

Looking Back Somemore

So why am I dragging my feet about continuing my life story? I feel like I owe it to you, and yes myself also, to get it all out on the table, to share it.

Where shall I begin today? I really wanted to do what was right as a teenager, but we were a closed family. Sure, we talked to each other in our home, but never really shared.

Years later, I learned that my younger sister was going through basically the same things that I was but we were too vulnerable at the time to open our hearts to each other. Can you imagine these two girls walking around like zombies, pretending to be normal, thinking they are acting like the happy, well-adjusted Mennonite youth all around them, but carrying a burden far more painful than any of those other youngsters could ever imagine?

I remember now that my younger sister always wore her light-weight spring jacket in school. See: she had her protective armor. My own thing was to perch on the very edge of my seat in class. :)
It wasn't all gloom and doom though in that I was more fortunate than many girls my age who are victims. During this time I wrote a poem that had words like this in it: I walked alone, at least I thought I did, but hands reached out, and hearts reached out, in prayers to God, They cared.
Understandably those hands reaching out and prayers lifting up weren't so much from my peers, thinking of my cousins right now, but from their parents.

I remember being terrified when Dad wanted to 'drag' me back to live with him, but my beloved aunties and Grandma provide a safe place for me to run to.
But sometimes I couldn't always run...
www.echoingheartbeats.blogspot.com

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