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Women of Beauty - August 2010

- A Mother's Faith -

My youngest child, my son, has always been quite the individual. He not only marched to a

different drummer, he heard a whole different instrument. From an early age, he was the ring leader, the funny guy…always trying to make someone feel better. He often used this to mask his

sensitivity.

He looked out for kids who were weaker than he. In school, there was a new student in his class

who clearly had some emotional problems. When he would get upset in school, my son would calm him down by talking to him, according to the Principal.

During the course of his young life, he experienced a life altering trauma with the hit and run

death of his older buddy. Too young to really handle what this meant ,yet wanting to ease the horrific sorrow his friend’s parents felt, he would ask to come with me to visit and he would just sit on the couch with his friend’s dad; not saying anything. He told me maybe he could be their

son too.

Time passed and over the next 6 years, my son experienced the death of his grandparents whom he was close to; and the sudden death of his uncle, my brother, two days after having dinner

with him. He was very, very sad for a while. And he was angry. He didn’t want to go to church; he hated God. Being a person of deep faith, I would tell him that he should try to say a prayer to

God for those others he loved and lost. No matter what, I would tell him I would pray the prayer for him. He just couldn’t understand why. No explanation of mine would suffice.

During the summer of his 14 year, he made friends with a young boy named Chris. He was very small for his age and my son referred to him as “little Chris”. They became close and he often

went to Chris’ house to play at his mom’s request. My son often talked of the fun the kids had there and “how cool” Chris’ mom was! She did lots of fun games and things with them when

they visited. Their friendship continued through the summer and into the fall of his sophomore year in high school.


Now settled in more, he had some growing friendships in high school too and would often tell us stories about his friends, especially the boy who sat in front of him in most classes for the past 2

years. Lovers of football and handball, the guys would toss the ball around after school.

Winter came and my son saw less of his “little” friend because he was sick a lot. He didn’t know what was wrong with him but he said he had it since birth. One day, he asked what did it

mean that Chris had a tube that came out of his chest. That was the first time I became aware that Chris had some serious medical problems.

Christmas came and went. My son saw Chris a few times at his house. At this point, he hadn’t

been going to school because he was so sick. In March, “little” Chris died. The boys got dressed and went to his wake everyday-trying to be supportive to Chris’ mom. …fifteen year old

boys being real men. He was heart -broken.

He couldn’t go to his funeral service- he just didn’t want to be that sad.

Back at school the following week, he was disappointed because he could not hang out to toss

the football with his classmates because his bus had arrived. Later on that evening, he came down from his room with a look of shock on his face-his eyes welling up with tears. He could not

speak.

After about five minutes, he tells us that his classmate John, who sat in front of him the past 2 years, the one with whom he had wanted to toss the football with after school today, had died.

He collapsed while playing football across from the school…and died in the hospital of an aneurysm.

For us, this was beyond belief. My son stayed in bed a full two days. He didn’t eat. He didn’t drink. He didn’t shower. Sadness engulfed him for quite some time. We talked to him about

speaking with someone but he insisted that there were people working with the class at school.

How can a young man, a boy still, cope with such sorrow? How can he believe and trust that God is good and God will take care of him? As time went on, he spoke less and less of his lost

friends, but he kept “little” Chris’ prayer card on he refrigerator door.

Junior year began and we started to take note of some small changes in our son. While not a lover of school work, he was in the honors program and had done well. I started receiving calls from school…he got more and more quiet…and sad………..his weight dropped. He only wanted

to be with his friends.

He began to say he felt down. One Friday evening, he asked me to make him something to eat when he got home. Having prepared it, I sat down to chat with him……….when I saw his eyes , a

horror came over me. I could feel my pulse racing. He was high. I questioned him. He started to cry…..and cry…..and cry. My heart was breaking and I was scared to death for him. He said

he just was trying ‘pot’ to see if it would make his pain go away and let him sleep.


We got him into therapy but he kept fighting over going-he didn’t want to keep telling the stories….he was unable to go to school because he wasn’t sleeping, his emotions were

erratic and at times, he was so angry I felt frightened –really frightened.

I kept on praying –I didn’t know what else to do. Things worsened. He refused to take any medication after the doctors diagnosed him with acute depression and post traumatic stress

disorder. He would cry and be inconsoleable. Many nights I just sat on his bed, holding him. I tried to encourage him to pray.

He was doubtful that God even existed anymore. He couldn’t understand why I would believe in

the view of all this. I don’t know why I believed, I just did.

He missed the remainder of his junior year and the first half of his senior year with the exception of a few weeks. He continued to have more bad days than good and did everything he

could to avoid the therapist. We tried different therapists and psychiatrists. Things worsened

until the day after Christmas he had a huge battle with his dad and he walked out and didn’t return for 24 hours. He had no phone.

For some reason, while concerned, I was not frantic. When he returned home, frightened,

hungry and crying, he finally agreed to go back to the therapist regularly…..which he did. I

kept trying to reassure him without promising anything. Whenever I could push the idea of

praying, I would; usually to no avail.

One Saturday morning in March, he woke up and was in good spirits. Surely, the Lord had

been hearing our prayers…………………..

while not immediate, my son began to slowly show signs of improving………………..

more good days than bad days.

On mothers day, my son made me a card, as he has done every year since he could do it alone,

and the last sentence inside was : “thank you mom for giving me strength when I was too

weak to try.”

I can’t question why my son had this challenge to face or why there was so much

sorrow at such a young age………..I thank my God each and every day for the gift of having

my boy get more and more well. I thank God for giving me the strength and courage when

what I really wanted to do was pull the blankets over my head………………..I believe that this

is not the end of my life’s struggles by any stretch but I know I do not have to face them

alone………even when I feel most alone, I am not.

Written by E. Gallina © 2010


~Poetry Corner~

You’re Never Alone

You’re never alone, you’re never alone,

When you have Jesus for your very own.

You’re never alone , you’re never alone


I was alive, alive yet dead.

I thought I could make it by myself,

But I found out instead,

I need Jesus in my life everyday.

I tell you my friend, Jesus is the Way.

You’re never alone, you’re never alone,


You’re never alone , you’re never alone,



Written by Evang. B. Benneman © 2004

~Encouraging Words~

CHANGE

He offers us many chances to change,

Some day but not today I say;

We refrain surfing life’s range;

Wanting to fit in, we spin and spin.

Written by M.P. King © 2010

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