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Little Girl Child

 

Kathy Dingus

 
 

 

Little Girl Child,

your eyes so innocent, so wild,

reflecting depths of hate,

from the ones who should love . . .

Where, oh, where was our God above?

 

Little Girl Child,

I hope God removed your pain,

when all hope was gone

and when no friends remained.

 

All who were blind are now forced to see

the depravity you've suffered,

the hurts,

so lewd and mean.

 

Little Girl Child,

you're society's scapegoat,

a wondrous creation now wasted by hatred so deep, and fathomless

we drown within its sea and when we look in the mirror,

Horror Behold! Its our own faces we see.

 

Little Girl Child,

politicians will now use your story

to further their social and political gains

with an evilness so vile that all goodness is scorned,

and not a hope for us remains.

 

Little Girl Child

can you possibly forgive

the ignorance, blind eyes, and the ears deaf from fear?

No involvement, no questions, no peeking, no love.

Can we be forgiven by the true God above?

 

Little Girl Child,

I hope you can now rest,

your hands now crossed upon your sweet breast,

in heaven I hope you will learn how to play.

 

Little Girl Child,

you need no longer fear

the silent, long, lonely nights,

or the days filled with tears.

You*re now with Jesus, and He alone can give,

you love so profound you can forget and forgive . . .

As for those of us wearing blinders to this world*s cruelty,

May we never turn our heads and not really see,

the hundreds,

or thousands of other little girls,

who are tortured,

and beaten and killed out of "love.

Little Girl Child

the shame your death brought and forced us to see...

The deep, deep heartache that cannot be assuaged,

may it stir us to action so the next "little girl"

will be saved.

I write this in remembrance... in remembrance of that innocent child in all of us, and the painful reality of cruel inhumanity, unfortunately found all too often in this world today.

This little girl child was murdered by her parents cruelly and with malice and forethought. No one thought to intervene, no one seemed to care, until after the fact.

This unspeakable, tortured event actually took place during the week of Mother's Day.

All Mother Love is not inherent...as I once supposed.

For Brenda Ann, and suffering children everywhere .

May 13, 1997