The never ending cycle of violence

Bismi Allah Arrahman Arrahim.



December 25, 2002. 12:21 Am.

I had a little chat with a nineteen-year-old young man today. God! How I wish it were my son I could have been talking to.

We talked about the problems, and we talked about the system.

He told me how every foster home tore a part of his heart.

How his mom had started the cycle for him, when he was only five years of age.

Up until then, he remembers his father singing him songs.

He never really understood what made her leave, he only knows that she took his lullabies, his father's songs, and whatever stability he had.

Things started going down hill.

At twelve, he had his first encounters with juvenile holes, and boot camps. It was tougher than tough. It did not do him any good. It was not what he was looking for. He was looking for acceptance and love.

He was accused of molesting his sister. Was it true? Was he a predator? Or was he just a little boy experiencing sexual urges for the first time?
Only God knows.

Whatever the case may have been, harshness had only made the matter worst, and did not help him any.

He now has a label for all to see and shun him for. A reputation he cannot shake away stands between him and any chance of a normal life.

What have we done with forgiveness?

When did we lose compassion, and empathy?

Are they not needed in such cases as this one?

But fear is standing guard, spreading its dark clouds of doubt, "What if I trust him and he stabs me, steals my property, or hurts my child?"
Is the question every one asks if they ever think about helping this unfortunate young man. All the while forgetting that when one performs a good deed for God sake, one is protected by God automatically. But trust eludes many.

We go around trying to pick and choose people, things or situations worthy of our trust, and by so doing we open ourselves a little wider each time to deception because we put our trust in things that are liable to change, and not in what is constant.

To many church goers, Psalm 23 is familiar, but very few really understand its implications.
King David was not saying that there was no evil around him, but he was saying that though he walked through the valley of the shadow of death, he shall fear nothing, because he believed and knew that God was protecting him. King David worked for the benefit of many, he was not a selfish man. It is selfishness that breeds fear.

The state tried to pick up the pieces. Social Services tried to help, but what can scotch tape do for a broken spirit?

Child Protective Services moved the young man from one home to another, creating even more fragmentation to his soul. None was able to tell him why his mom had left him behind, or why did she take the melodies, and the songs with her.

The young man's heart and his soul are broken by the indifference of a society, and its cruelty, as are many others, and broken individuals will never make a society whole.


My dear boy! I do feel your pain.