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As I approached the old beat up building I could see a small group of kids waiting for the doors to open. It's five 0'clock, late for me to be arriving. I pick up my pace a little.
I hate seeing so many of you waiting in the cold. I hadn't meant to be late but sometimes I couldn't help it. Usually I was there long before five. I liked to get ready for your arrival.
I was one of the councilors at the "Boy's & Girl" Club' in the north End of Winnipeg. The club was the only safe place most of you kids had to go to after school. Home wasn't an option for most of you, was it?
At the edge of the small crowd I see the two, standing together. A sweet little bit of a girl and a too thin little man, not much bigger than his sister. They are the Hall kids, Searle and Cindy Hall, Cindy is six and big brother Searle is seven and a half.
I can still remember the serious scowl that was ever present on your face, Searle. It made you look too old for your young years. Yet your sister was always so bubbly. Happy to come and see me. She loved to comb out my long hair. Braiding it back proudly for me. She was a delightful little thing.
You however! Searle, you damn near drove us nuts. The rest of the councilors and I were always wondering what was wrong with you. You couldn't be left alone for very long or you would become destructive on a whim. We were never sure what triggered it.
You even managed to make one of the workers cry one day. She had taken a group of you kids to the school. We had permission to use their kitchen. Ours was too small and our buildings were close together. So it was easy to carry stuff back and forth. We often used their kitchen for big cooking projects.
When I went over to see if she needed help I was amazed at what I was seeing. There you were! You had crawled way to the back of the bottom cupboard. And you were throwing out anything that your little hands could get a hold of. It took me ten minutes to talk you into coming out.
The councilor told us later, in between sobs, she didn't know what had set you off. You puzzled me, always. But at that moment I think I was beginning to sense you had a very dark secret. A secret so hard to keep sometimes it was as if you would explode for no reason. I wasn't aware what the secret was but instinctively I knew you had one.
I wish I had known I wouldn't be in your life for very long. I wish I could have locked away a little bit of time, just for us. I wish and pray that some kind soul came into your life and cared for you the way you deserved. Actually I have a lot of wishes when it comes to you, Searle. You and your sister. But most of all I wish I had been smart enough to Stop, Look and Listen when I was there with you. Maybe I could have changed things for you.
Perhaps I will never know now. The years have come and gone. But through the years you stayed with me. In a special place I have way down deep in my heart. A place I save for those few in my life that have touched me so deeply.
I write this many years later. I write it for now I have come home. I have traveled to many far away places. I have met many far away people. But I have come home to stay. Not far from where once you would wait for me, outside the old building.
It took many years for me to figure out why you did the things you did. Why you would for no apparent reason go off on a fit of anger. Creating havoc all around you.
Even now I can't believe how incredibly smart you were. You were very calculating in your actions. I still wonder if all that incredible energy and intelligence had been harvested. I wonder where it would have carried you.
I carry with me an ache that will never go away. There are times it is similar to being haunted. But my demons will never be exorcised. Not unless the day comes when I can tell you that, now I understand.
I understand what you were trying to tell us. I understand all to clearly the pain you suffered in your world. For in my many travels I have seen the same scowl, the same pain, on far too many little faces. They all make me think of you. You waiting for me outside the old building, your baby sister held close to your side.
I wanted to write this for all the Searle's in this world. The ones who can't make their tiny voice be heard. The ones who reach out so many times, never being noticed. And to you Searle Hall, you were such a brave little man. I wanted to tell you I am trying to send out your message. I want to let you know your echoes have been heard! I am sending out this message for you!
STOP, LOOK & LISTEN
I think it's time we all learn to just stop. Stop all the anger, the frustration and confusion. The dark things we are teaching our children. We have to learn how to stop the pain. We must realize every time we belittle, demean, slap, yell or torment a child, we are hurting all the Searles and Cindy's in this world!
Let's face it we have but one guaranteed resource for our future. That is our children! This is true worldwide. No matter what the religion, political beliefs, or poverty level. We all have the children in common. What we teach now will carry long into the history of mankind.
I understand that old man scowl on that tiny seven & a half-year-old face. I understand the lines of wisdom that seemed to be just underneath the skin. Skin that was brown and a face so handsome, true to his native heritage.
I want to tell Searle's secret to the world. A secret that was so dark and well hidden we couldn't find its source. A secret Searle had made for himself. He believed he had to have the secret or they wouldn't have survived. He would I'll bet keep his secret all his life believing it was his job to keep the secret.
For I finally understand he thought if he directed the attention towards himself and away from his sister he could protect her. He took all the pain for her. He invited the attention he got. Even though it was bad he knew none of it would go towards her. I think he knew if he wasn't there to care for her she too would fall prey to the cruelty of life.
I often wonder if Cindy was ever aware of this. Or if the parents ever saw how deep his pain was. Probably not. I suspect they may have been the cause. But we never found out the whole truth back then. The pain was just there we were happy to be able to just get through some tough times with Searle. It was a day by day project.
This makes me wonder how hard it is to understand, that for all the children that are abused we are creating a new generation of Searles. That generation will continue on with this behavior and on and on until someone finally simply says STOP!!
Perhaps if we can get a handle on not hurting our children we can also figure out why we can't hear our children. I believe if we could hear them we would be amazed at how intelligent and unique they are. We could learn to play and laugh once again. Perhaps things wouldn't seem so serious all the time. Perhaps we could once again find the child that was denied us.
If we see into the world of our children we could perhaps see some of the secrets they carry with them. We would begin to see how unjust it is every time we hurt them. We would then be able to hear them when they're in pain. If we looked very carefully we might even be able to understand what we are doing to make our children cry. But the key to this is you have to be willing to LOOK!
If we can learn to look then we can learn to listen. Listen to ourselves every time we yell. Every time we justify hitting a child. Every time we make a child feel as if they aren't worth much. Perhaps if we listen we can hear ourselves in our children. They mimic us so well.
Perhaps if we listen carefully enough we can hear the children singing again some day. If we lift the burden of pain from their tiny little shoulders they will remember the words to the songs. If we allow them the freedom to express themselves I believe we will all learn something. But we have to LISTEN!!
I have written this for a little man I was remembering today. He pops into my head more often then I care to admit. Searle Hall you gave me something a long time ago. And even though it has been many years I still carry it with me today. You gave me the need to Stop, Look and Listen in my own life. I have tried for you and all the others to be heard when ever I could. I hope it has made a difference!
©2003 StoriesByEmail.com
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