I caught a furtive glance of that child; a third grader being led in to the main office for the daily two hours of allotted educational time. Two hours? He comes from an unimaginable background of chaos, filth, abuse, violence and cognitive limitations. These are the bricks in this child’s foundation.
This small human being killed the family pet a summer or two ago. Warning bells! Both day treatment and long term treatment facilities rejected the case. The child is…too difficult to handle properly. So where in the name of all things Holy do we go now?
He’s sent back to us then…a waif…a cast off landing once again on the deck of a very unprepared public school. What are we then to do? Ahh…the home tutoring program it is. Only, wait a minute now. The family will not allow any school personnel on their property or in their home. Warning bells!
So…back he comes to the school building where a well intentioned and well meaning tutor will attempt to do the impossible in two brief hours every day; what has not been accomplished in a lifetime; bring some hope, a semblance of progress…maybe some education into the boy’s small life.
A rare glimpse on a rare morning when we two happen to meet in the main office. I look at him. He stares at me. Even in our togetherness we are at odds and ends…one sane adult and one child who long ago began walking on the path of his dark world; the crumbling road of slowly increasing insanity. He’s aged long ago before it was time; years older than I am in mind and spirit.
Bless you, my child for we have sinned…we have indeed…all sinned.
690 Saint Paul 