Come Before Winter – Chapter Eleven – Second Chances
December 11th, 2021
2 Timothy 4:21, “Do your utmost to come before winter.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN – SECOND CHANCES
Patsy was aghast. ‘What happened then? Did whoever found you rescue you?’ Mercy stared blankly at her friend. She had no clue. She pummeled her head with small fists until Patsy grasped her hands in both of her own, shushing her with comfort.
‘I don’t know, Patsy. I don’t remember. Anything. Agh! This is so frustrating!’ Mercy used to imagine her life was a piece of cheese, the kind with the holes in it. She felt like she was full of holes, full of missing pieces, so much of herself a mystery.
‘What is the first thing you can remember?’ Patsy asked softly. ‘Do you recall where they took you after they came into your home and got you? A hospital? Did you stay with anyone you knew, a relative perhaps?’ Mercy simply shook her head, her chin buried in her chest. Her legs were drawn up inside of her and she resembled a human ball. ‘Do you have a first family you lived with whom you might remember, or do you recall when you first went to school?’ At that, Mercy blanched, and Patsy anxiously asked, ‘What is it?’
Mercy jerked her head violently and small cries erupted. Alarmed, Patsy soothed her again, ‘It’s okay, shhhh; I’m sorry, love. I just want to help but I think I’m making matters worse for you by causing you to remember. You’re safe; it’s a long time ago, and you’re well past that time in your life.’
But I’m not! Mercy wanted to cry out. I’m not. It’s with me everywhere I go. Even if I don’t vividly remember, there is still a blight, a blemish that has been cast over me always. I’m forever stained. She didn’t say those words to her friend, but she thought them all the same, wished she had the guts to voice them aloud. The scars, they would always be with her, even though the wounds might have healed.
There was the foster family who shut the kids not belonging to them in rooms as soon as they arrived home from school and until they went to school the next morning. They were only allowed to use the bathrooms on the scheduled bathroom breaks, and if Mercy had an accident, she received a paddling with a wooden spoon. All the foster children ate in the rooms, slept, did homework, stayed out of the way, no privacy allowed whatsoever. Thank God, Mercy was removed from that home when her behavior caused concern with her teacher. They were only in it for the handsome check they received.
Then there was the foster father who began showing up in Mercy’s room in the middle of the night, saying he just needed some comfort! The foster mom who liked to ‘tuck her in at night’. The real children who belonged who treated the foster children so terribly, who you weren’t allowed to say no to and who you simply had to silence your scream and bite your tongue as they said and did anything they wanted to you. The rotten food she and the other foster children were often fed, the hopelessness, the many nights she laid awake, counting, counting everything, counting anything she could see or imagine because it caused the time to pass. She recalled now how often she’d wanted to die, how little her life meant, what was the purpose of another child with a snotty nose and a broken heart, waiting for someone to arrive who would never come? All the perfect scores and great grades she achieved, and for what? A spanking anyway just because some foster felt like it. Counting, counting, always counting, counting down the days, and for what?
Mercy held back the tears, her throat burning with indignation and the memories that were now roiling through her like a bad stomach bug. She couldn’t breathe but she didn’t want Patsy to see her like this. Everything changed for her the day Michael and Patsy took her in and gave her hope and a place to belong. They were a gift from God, a God she didn’t know enough about, but she did know that He had used them to save her.
In barely a whisper, Mercy smiled and answered, ‘It’s okay, Patsy. Please don’t feel bad; you’re just trying to help me, and I appreciate it so much. I don’t remember anything, not a thing. But I’m going to work on it,’ she promised, crossing and uncrossing her fingers behind her back.
Genesis 28:16, ‘Surely, the Lord is in this place, and I was not aware of it.’ (NIV)
To Be Continued…
