"I was an angel," I said with a smile. "In a school Christmas program. I was an angel."

Marlin smiled with me, as my mind drifted back to that time.

Christmas didn't mean much to me, because I had seen other homes with trees and toys and laughter, but it was all foreign to me. There were two Christmas memories, two very different Christmas experiences. Yet I believe they were exactly the same one.

My sister, Virginia was attending a small country school. We were both quite young, so I imagine she was in kindergarten. Wonder of wonder! I had been invited to go to school with her one day for "Christmas". They were having a party. Dora and Bud had made sure we had mittens on, and in fact they were new mittens. This was an amazing day for me, school and mittens. So we set off (seriously) through the snow to school. As we were leaving, Bud snarled at me "Make sure you don't lose those mittens. If you do, believe me I will beat you death."

"I won't."

"Mark my words, you'd better not," he scowled at me.

I soon forgot Bud's terrifying threat and bounced around my sister with joy. I was going to school! I was going to a party! And, I had new mittens. When we got to the school, everybody was abuzz with excitement. The teacher, a kind lady offered to take my jacket and mittens for me.

"Oh, no!" I exclaimed, "I have to keep them with me to be sure not to lose them."

"I'll keep them safe for you," she smiled into my skeptical face. "I promise, I will. See? I will put them up here, and they will be safe."  

I nodded, and smiled my agreement. Soon she had me seated at my very own desk, with some crayons and paper so I could draw while she was teaching the class during the morning. The party would begin at noon, but first there were last minute assignments to take care of. 

The room dazzled my eyes, I had never seen such wonderful things. There was a tree with lights and decorations at the front of the classroom (this was a one room school house), holly and candles inside wreaths at all the windows. I wanted to stay there forever, so happy drawing and listening to the lessons. Before long, they began to sing Christmas songs. One I especially like, because I thought it had been written especially for my sister... "'round yon virgin, mother and child". I didn't understand it, but it was beautiful to my ears. 

We were lined up to get apples, and I was the last one in line. Just as I got there, I saw the apples were all gone - someone had taken my apple! Before I could say anything, I heard a loud "Ho! Ho! Ho!" and looked to see a very big man in a red suit, with a white beard striding into the school.  He looked down at me and laughed, "Hello, little angel!", and picking me up swung me around in his arms. I am sure my eyes must have been huge, as I had no idea what or who he was. Still laughing, he set me down and asked, "Well, my little beauty, would you like some sweets for the sweet?" So saying, he handed me a bag of Christmas candy.

Then he swung around and called out "Ho! Ho! Ho! Merry Christmas" as he entered the classroom, handing out the candy. 

Too soon, the party had to end. Everybody got their coats, and candy and yelling "Merry Christmas" to each other rushed out the doors. I went for my coat and mittens. My coat was there, but my mittens were gone! Gone!

"Oh nooooo," I wailed.

The teacher, all concerned, asked what was the matter. 

"My mittens are gone!"

"They can't be, I tucked them inside your jacket when I laid it on the shelf," she answered, frowning. "Let's look again."

But no matter how much we looked, we couldn't find the mittens. And without the mittens, I wasn't leaving.. I simply refused.

"But, you can't stay here," the teacher explained. "Your family will be wondering where you are."

"Bud said he would beat me to death if I lost the mittens," I begged, "don't make me go home".

"He was only teasing, just to be sure you took good care of them," the kindly lady tried to assure me.

Virginia piped in, "No. He meant it."

Several hours later, after phone calls and muted conversations, the teacher drove us home, without the mittens. "You'll be okay," she patted my arm. "I made them promise."

Slowly, I dragged myself inside. Dora was there alone. Wonder of wonders, Bud was gone. It was a night of sleeping without the alligators, but also a night of listening to Dora cry in her bed.

Marlin prodded me, drawing me for a moment away from my memories. "Was that when you were the angel?"

"No, that was later, when we were with the Dunkens."

That same Christmas Virginia and I awoke to each of us having a teddy bear.  Her's was pink, but missing an eye and a nose. Mine was brown and ugly. But at least it had both eyes, although there was a hole were the nose should have been. Gifts. But somehow, I knew in my heart they were pacifiers, though I wouldn't have understood that word at that young age. Yet I knew they weren't "honest", they were some kind of bribe. They were not gifts of love, and I felt cheated. I never played with that teddy bear; it broke my heart to look at it.

A few days later, which must have been New Year's Eve we went to a house for a party. In the kitchen and dining area was a large table full of food resting on a white, red and green oilcloth table covering over it, which hung nearly to the floor. I spotted that and quickly chose it as my area. The living room was just off the kitchen, and had a beautiful Christmas tree. There were gifts and toys all over the floor, as the people had two children. We played together in their bedroom for awhile, but they were older than me, and I couldn't keep up with their games or their chatter. So I asked if I could play with a couple of the toys - a little guitar and a musical top. 

"Go ahead," the boy said.

I scampered to the kitchen to my secret place under the oilcloth, and spent the hours there playing the guitar and spinning the top. It was a lovely top, big, red, yellow, green and blue. It made me smile all inside. And oh the hummm of the music!  I could peek out and see the adults in the living room, and hear them as they came into the kitchen for food and drinks. Their music was played loudly and they were dancing. In my little hideaway nobody noticed as I wound the guitar and spun the top.

Suddenly, the tone of the voices changed, and I recognized Bud's snarling anger. He was cursing another man who had danced with Dora. A push. A shove. Then they were at it, swinging their fists into each other's face. Crashing and thudding. The women screaming, the other men trying to stop the fight. Faster and faster I pushed the handle on the top, faster, faster, faster...

Quiet. Strange how quiet can sometimes be louder than noise. I spun the top. Dora and Bud getting their coats and leaving. I spun the top. Angry whispered words between the woman; the men were quiet. The door slammed. I spun the top. Spinning, spinning hummmm, hummmm. My heart was beating out of my chest, as I waited to be dragged from under the table into the wrath of Bud. Hummm, hummmm, hummmmmmmmm.

"Did they take you then?" Marlin, intently, quietly, asking, asking.

I pulled myself back to the present. "No. We stayed overnight. The party went on without them. In the morning, when everyone was asleep I went out to the kitchen and living room. It wasn't nearly so magical then. There was blood on the floor, smeared. There were ashtrays full of cigarette butts. There were broken plates and glasses, and a broken lamp. The pale sun streaming in through the living room window lit up a broken, dirty home."

"What did you do then?"

"I went and got my clothes on very quietly, so I wouldn't waken the others. Then I went to the middle of the kitchen floor, not under the table and spun the top. Over and over and over. Until the lady got up, and took us home." Those are the two Christmas memories, until the night I was an angel."

I smiled at the memory. I was in kindergarten or first grade. It was the school Christmas program at Angel Elementary School in Muskegon, Michigan. We kept practicing for the program, and all the girls were to be dressed like angels, complete with golden halos. What a night! My hands were shaking as I finally put on the white gauze dress, and they fastened my wings. Next, they fastened the halo. How lovely the dress felt, just to touch it was pure heaven. My hair was all done in Shirley Temple curls, and I felt SO special. Just for that night. For that moment, I knew I was beautiful. It was the only time in my life I ever felt beautiful. 

Silent night, holy night. All is calm, all is bright...

Psalm 22:9-14: "Yet you brought me safely from my mother's womb and led me to trust you when I was a nursing infant.  I was thrust upon you at my birth. You have been my God from the moment I was born. Do not stay so far from me, for trouble is near, and no one else can help me. My enemies surround me like a herd of bulls...like roaring lions attacking their prey, they come at me with open mouths."

Psalm 22:23-25: "Praise the LORD...for he has not ignored the suffering of the needy. He has not turned and walked away. He has listened to their cries for help. I will praise you among all the people.."


 

HOW CAN I SAY "THANK YOU"?

 

Once again I must take time for my musing. Writing my history in the blogs is exhausting, exhilarating and cleansing. Still it leaves me drained and in a state of "limbo" phase after some of it, and I believe the reason for that is that the Lord wants to take care of the complete healing of a particular wound.

This weekend I was at Walmart with my grandson, and we happened to push our cart past a clearance aisle on the way from doggie goodies to household supplies. If you know Walmart at all, you will recognize the "Clearance" aisle as most often being about toys. With six grandsons, I am always happy to browse this aisle to sniff out bargains for them. 

On this particular day, we happened upon a "trick tricycle", which is to say an adult type bicycle, nipped and tucked into a tricycle. You have probably seen then... somebody must have, because when I searched them out on the internet I was amazed to see how many of these are around! This particular one had the hand brakes and was painted bright yellow. It looked like a lot of fun.

Even after 60 years it still looked like a lot of fun! Yes. It was the kind that Danny was riding when he and his pals decided to assault me. Sans the hand brakes, of course. You can imagine that I just stopped in my tracks. I looked at it and found that I needed to examine my wounds a bit closer - what would I do with this standing in front of me! To my surprise, nothing! No panic signs, no stress, no elevated blood pressure - simply nothing!

I rejoice in sharing this! The Lord had totally healed me since I wrote my last blog up to my standing in front of that instrument which had caused me so much pain over the years. What a blessing! How could I have imagined such a thing? Yet, there it is. 

How can I can "thank you", Lord? That's really all I can say ~ Thank You♥

  

 

"I am with you and will watch over you wherever you go, and I will bring you back to this land. I will not leave you until I have done what I have promised you." [Genesis 28:15]

 

GOD, CAN YOU HEAR ME?

 

"There are a couple things I'd like to go back and talk about," Marlin smiled over his glasses. A new day, a new session. "One is the statement you made about not crying. The other is when you said you "especially" didn't want that to happen to your children - when you were talking about the assault on Jason."

Really. He really wanted to go there again! 

I said nothing. I sat there. I thought about the times when I was little and I would cry out, only to be greeted with a hard hand, harsh words or other punishments.  I learned early on to hold the screams in, the crying... all that was for dark, dark corners hidden from the world. 

"When I cried, or spoke without being spoken to, or tried to ask a question they would force me to eat spoonfuls of chili powder. Pretty simple, really. You learn to not cry, at least out loud." I shrugged my shoulders. "It is what it is."

"How did you deal with that?"

"I was terrified. I'd roll my tongue and keep as much in the front of my mouth as possible, while they watched for me to swallow."

"Actually, I was talking about the mental part. I have no doubt you would think it through on how to facilitate the pain. How did you withstand such a cruel thing, mentally?"

"The same as always. I would take my mind to another time, another place. Someplace lovely where I could hide for awhile."

I read once about Lucretia Borgia of Italy, who was being prepared to later marry royalty (she married King Henry of France), was taught the hard way never to let the world see her emotions. One of her two dogs was poisoned in front of her [by her parents]. She had been told if she cried out or expressed anything in face or attitude, they would poison the other one, and make her watch that slow, painful death, too. Lucretia later became known as Madame Serpent, because only her cold, hard eyes looked out at the world.

"Where are you now," he gently prodded me.

"In the Land of the Lost," I responded automatically. It was so true, the Land of the Lost was such a familiar, comfortable place. I had lived there so many years. Did I think I really wanted to leave it?

"When was your first sexual assault?" he drew my attention back to the prsent.

"How did you know?"

"How could I not?"

I was about four years old on that summer day. A group of teen-aged boys were playing in the neighborhood of my grandmother's house. They had a baseball and a bat and were headed to the school grounds. One of them had a shiny, red bike. I stood there looking at that bike, simply dazzled.

"Hey, look!" One of them called out. "The little girl likes you Danny." 

The others chimed in hooting and teasing the boy on the bicycle. He rode around me and came to a stop. 

"Nah, I think she likes my bike," he grinned. "Do you like my new bike?"

I could only nod my head. Part of me wanted to run away, but part of me wanted to stay and look at the bike.

"Would you like a ride?"

"Yes!" I smiled, then laughed out loud.

"Okay. Sure. But first you have to earn it."  He looked at the other boys. "And you have to be part of the club."

How exciting! I would be included as part of a club, and they would be my friends and let me play with them. Best of all, I would get to ride a beautiful bike, all in one day! My mind whirled with all the lovely, unexpected treats in store for me.

The others joined in proclaiming that I was a new member of the club. All that was left was my initiation. So they led me to the club house, closed the door and one of them turned on a flashlight.

"To be part of the club, you must past the initiation," Danny explained. "Can you do that?"

I nodded my head solemnly, "I'll try," I whispered excitedly.

"Good," said Danny, unbuttoning his pants, this is what you have to do.

I was glad there were only six of them, as they introduced me to forced sexual activity. I didn't like it, and I wanted to leave, but they wouldn't let me go. Until finally Danny got angry "You didn't do any of it right," he yelled at me. "Get out of here," and opening the door he threw me outside.

Standing there dazed and confused, I didn't know what to do. I wanted to cry, but I couldn't. All I could hear was the laughter and talking of the boys inside. I stumbled away, heading towards my grandmother's house. Suddenly they were all around me, Danny riding his bike. I looked at him, not letting him see my fear, or see me cry.

"Look at the little whore," he yelled, whooping.

They all picked up on this and ran around me in circles, trying to cut me off, yelling and taunting. Danny brought his bike to a stop in front of me.

"You tell anyone about this, and we'll come back and kill you." He snarled.

"Yeah, the others chimed, "We'll kill you and more!"

With that, they were gone, racing off down the road. I found a big bush, crawled under it and curled up. Sick, crying and scared, I fell asleep there.

Marlin looked at me, quietly for a moment, so much compassion in his eyes.

"It was not your fault. You are NOT the one at fault here, Linda. You must learn that you were assaulted, by a group of older boys. You were a victim, and it wasn't your fault."

I shook my head. "It was too much for me to assimilate. I have always felt dirty and ashamed. And it hurts so bad."

"Did you ever see those boys again?"

"Only Danny. I was standing with my grandmother outside the house one day when he came riding by on that bike. He never even looked at me, but kept his eyes straight ahead, and rode on the other side of the street, peddling as fast as he could."

"Did that make you upset."

"Yes, I was pretty angry. He could at least said he was sorry - that's what I thought when I saw him that day!"

"For hurting you and calling you names." He nodded.

"No. For not letting me ride the bike!"

Psalm 12:7 NIV: "O LORD, you will keep us safe and protect us from such people forever."

 

Mark 5:39 NIV: He went in and said to them, "Why all this commotion and wailing? The child is not dead but asleep."

Romans 8:15 NIV: For you did not receive a spirit that makes you a slave again to fear, but you received the Spirit of sonship. And by him we cry, ""Abba," Father."

 

 He is the Lord that healeth me, He is the Lord my healer.

 

HE WAS THERE ALL THE TIME

My Dear Friend!

Normally, this would be a letter at the beginning of my story, but it has come to a place where I feel the need to write this personal note to each of you. In the chapters I have been sending you, there is quite a lot of tragedy and very little humor. That is why I am writing this letter, at this time.

God has richly blessed me with a sense of humor. I seem to have an unending funny bone, often not seen by others. But that's okay with me. I love having my humor; I love the laughter He has blessed me with which begins at my toes and permeates my whole heart and soul. I would never want to give it up. It has let me see the ridiculousness of many a sad situation. It has let me laugh in the face of adversity. So I thank You, Lord.

You will notice that with every chapter I have presented scripture. There is a good reason for this - it is because God was always with me. When I was very young I loved and worshipped God, singing songs of praises to Him. Speaking to Him in the heavenly language He had given me. No matter the circumstance, I could always look for and find Him. As I grew and went through more harrowing situations, I began to wonder if God remembered me. I wondered if I had done something terribly wrong. It grew more and more difficult for me to find Him.

The day came when my adoptive parents took me to a church which preached hellfire and brimstone. The pastor roared from the pulpit, swinging the Bible through the air in great arcing sweeps and slamming it on the pulpit. He was terrifying, as he ranted about a God I wasn't familiar with. Banging his fist on the Bible, he then pointed his finger right at me. "I tell you this, you are nothing but evil, and you are headed straight to hell!" He bellowed, looking me right in the eye. 

I'm sure you know it was meant for the whole church body, but at five years old all I saw was that it was directed at ME! It answered so many questions for me which had loomed like a dark cloud over me for so long. I was doomed! I had been cursed to hell. I could almost hear the doors clang shut, locking me in the depths of darkness. I could see no way of escape; I just wasn't good enough for God. I hadn't made it. I was a mistake! God didn't want me.

30 Years later, I reconnected with God as I was trying to commit suicide. I asked Him to do me just one favor: I was too weak to take my own life, and I had to give my children a chance at life without me around. I felt I was incapable of doing anything right; I was a failure. And mostly, I was a failure as a parent. So there I was, lying on my stomach on my living room floor, filled with despair and hopelessness. It was the darkest point in my life. I had nothing more to lose, so I begged Him, "Please, God, if You really are listening to me, please do this one thing for me. Take my life, because I can't."

A warm breeze began covering me from my feet to my head. Softly, gently He answered me. "I will," He said. I was reborn-born again in that moment. And I learned that night, as the Holy Spirit ministered to me, that He had been there all the time, loving me. He had never left me.

My chains are gone, I've been set free
My God, my Savior has ransomed me
And like a flood His mercy reigns
Unending love, amazing grace

In tribute to this teaching, I sang the following song of praise, and claimed it for my own testimony. Is is a song of thanksgiving and joy, to celebrate His faithfulness. When you read the vignettes of my story, I hope you will remember these words, and be lifted into His embrace as I was. Rejoice with me! He was there all the time!

HE WAS THERE ALL THE TIME

[author unknown]

(minor word changes by Sunny Rowe in the singing)

Time after time I went searching for peace in some void.

I was trying to blame all my pain on this world I was in.

Broken relationships used me 'til I was done in.

And all the while someone was loving me right through my sin.

He was there all the time.

He was there all the time.

Waiting patiently in line.

He was there all the time.

Never again will I look for a fake rainbow's end.

Now that I have the answer my life is just starting to rhyme.

Sharing each new day with Him is a cup of fresh wine.

And, Oh! What I missed..

He's been waiting right here all the time.

He'll be here all the time.

He'll be here all the time.

Waiting patiently in line.

He'll be here all the time.

Thank you for taking this journey with me. You will see as we continue how much my life was in jeopardy, but He was there, ALL the time. I was the one, through circumstances uncontrollable that day in church, of shutting the door and submitting to darkness, and destruction.

Hugs & Blessings to each of you.

Linda (Sunny) Rowe

Revelation 3:20 NKJV "Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears My voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and dine with him, and he with Me."

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