December 25, 2010

Christmas Morning

Yes folks, it's Christmas morning. Early. Some of you, I am sure, are already up, sitting on the lounge floor covered in reams of shredded Christmas paper with hypo-kids going ultra sonic and yelling for more batteries for this and for that. It's the way Christmas should be - noisy, chaotic, and real messy - a day when your kids will love you the most and only a week away from when you, in turn, will become the kid and kick up your heels on New Year's eve. Hopefully, by then, the kids would have had enough of all the festivities and have legged it to bed. Hopefully. As the saying goes "Well that's the plan, Stan."

For me, the lounge is already a graveyard of toiled gift paper, shredded from the explosive and somewhat manic exploits of Christmas morning that happened a mere few hours ago. Now it is as quiet as a mouse - I think we may have peaked too soon. 

This year, I am happy to report not one single plastic ugly flea infested dinosaur looking 'thing' made its way into my present pile. Nor did any vampire paraphernalia or kid-sized Edward Cullen tee-shirts. 

Something has happened to my child this year. Her gifts to me are no longer a mere extension of her own desires. It's the first year that I can truly look at what she has given me and know she had me in mind when she parted with her hard earned pocket money. In fact, I seriously doubt she likes anything she bought me and that just makes it even more special. Bless. Kid's eh?

Talking of special kids, I came across this story only a few minutes ago and I must admit, it really touched me. Sad to think there is a need for such fundraising but...well, there is.
"Rosie set up a stall near her home selling used books and products from their garden to support the 'nine-year-old west Auckland victim' who has recently been in the media." Girl, 9, raises $109 for abuse victim - national | Stuff.co.nz
Good one you Rosie and on behalf of me and my family, may I wish all the children, especially those within violent homes ...

(ten minutes later)... 

How do you wish children who suffer violence a merry Christmas especially when you know this time of the year is even worse for those kids? For them, this time of the year is when they start to think they're really weird. Excluded. Isolated. Alone...alienated. An alien. A monster no one wants to be around. Rotten fruit. Tainted. Second hand. 

Logic, in a child's mind, says that they're responsible for the violence. They caused it. Whatever they're doing makes people react violently and so they internalise everything - put the actions of those sick adults back on themselves. 

I can't stop the violence. I wish I could. I wish my fantasy would become real and I could fly above rooftops with a super-sonic internal crying detector and scoop down and beat the crap out of offenders...but I can't. 

All I have is hope. 

I hope that everyone of those children find something inside themselves, like an internal brick wall, that they can at least hide behind for a while. So that the words, the finger pointing, the name calling, the shit that eats into one's soul cannot, will not, get in and like a true butterfly, one day they will emerge: in full flight, radiant and proud - a true survivor. 

That is what I hope for.

Merry Christmas little butterflies, merry Christmas.

5 comments:

  1. That will beat the Queens message hands down. Merry Christmas little butterflies...

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  2. And Merry Christmas to you, Miss Jax. Thank you for your insights, your wisdom and your courage on the wild old web this year. :)

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  3. Awww!!! Jax that is beautiful!!! Love it!!! I too wish those beautiful little butterflies a merry Christmas although I wonder how that is possible with the hurt and pain they may be enduring right now! My hope is that the people around them that see their pain or here their screams will do something. that they or a neighbour would call the police. How hard is that to do? Pick up the phone and call 111 - and tell the address and that there is a child in need of some urgent assistance. Child abuse in this country is an epidemic... how do you deal with an epidemic - you bloody well deal with it and eradicate it and protect from it... So why can't we do that for our kids? As my name suggests I was once a little butterfly and for me the colour blue means 'Hope' - My hope for these children this christmas is for someone to take action and help them.

    Yesterday my neighbours baby died of cot death and that little three week boy is now in the safe arms of Jesus - he was loved and nurtured and held by his mummy, daddy and loved by his brothers and sister. My hope for them is peace and comfort. but... many children don't have this... there are children who are beaten, raped and neglected and there is no one to hold and nurture them and some are also killed... the doctors, his parents and siblings, and all us around him could do nothing to help him but we can do things to help these other children...LETS SAVE OUR CHILDREN!!!

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  4. I really feel like organising a rally this year. I have a vision of men, women, and children, all walking in silence, a gag over their mouths, dressed in black, placards with the name of our passed children, and Celine Dion's song "Fly" singing out all around.... and we walk. The length of this long white cloud, a symbol of our National Shame. All the way to the steps of Parliament. And we DEMAND change. My favorite fantasy that.

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  5. Dang, that brought a tear to the eye. I don't know where to begin to find remedies for stopping the violence and abuse of our children. How do you get parents, families, adults to raise the children in a loving, caring environment?
    How do you get children from those abusive homes to feel good about themselves, so they don't in turn, continue the abuse on their friends and other school mates.
    Is it the parents fault that their children grow up to be abusive bullies, is it booze and drugs, is it the frustrations of lives going nowhere.
    Why can some people grow into adulthood and do all the right things, even when they have been raised in a bad home and why do some turn bad and grow up a monster.
    Raising good, kind, caring and productive children should be the aim of every parent, so how come some go dreadfully wrong and have their children grow up one of these monsters of society.
    A very complex problem. Maybe our children should all be given specialized education at college, about the catastrophic results that come from abuse and violence and the right ways to go about fixing the problem. Show them ways to better their lives and be good parents and productive citizens, especially if they come from abusive homes themselves.
    Educate the youngins before they become parents, the ways to raise children properly and safely.

    My heart bleeds for all the victims of abuse and violence. We have a little girl aged 11, who comes to our house to play with one of my grandies, she has a very violent mother who has cause brain damage and severe psychological damage to the girl, who is now in foster care. She is the sweetest little girl, so kind and caring, polite and helpful and I have to wonder about her mother, why did she do that to such a sweet little child. She has missed out on a lifetime of great times with that child. The courts make the girl go visit with her mother, but the child is terrified, each time a visit comes around. Why do they force that upon an already damaged child.
    How do we save all our children from harm?

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