I’ve spent a lot of the last two days crying. Just a few days ago, and not far from where I live, a little girl went missing. You might have heard about it. The story made the national news. She was nine years old. Her disappearance was not a mystery for long. A trusted neighbor, who was babysitting her, killed her. He killed this precious child by beating her with a brick. Then he dismembered her little body, put her head and hands and feet into his freezer and put the rest of her body into a dumpster. He is jail now. The media moves on. Just another horrific story in a sometimes horrific world.
We think, how awful, and then move on – live our lives and fill our days with things to do.
And yet, for two days I have been unable to move on. Stuck in place and crying for this little girl. No, I didn’t know her. But I imagine the unspeakable grief her parents must be experiencing. Worse yet, I imagine her final moments of life. At random moments of the day, I think she should be playing with new Christmas presents. She should be watching a cartoon. Last night, while making a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, I thought of her. I thought she should be home and having a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Then I crumbled into more tears.
How can anyone look into the beautiful eyes of an innocent and trusting child and do harm? Such evil is unfathomable.
And how – how can God allow such a thing to happen? I know – we all have free will. But why doesn’t God protect the children and keep them from such harm? Let the adults kill one another, but protect the children.
I believe in God. I love God. But right now, I am so deep in despair over the horrible death of this precious child that I’m a little mad at God. Why God? Why didn’t you protect her? I don’t understand it. I’m depressed. If such things can happen to an innocent child, what’s the point of any of this? What’s the point of life?
I feel shaken. Uprooted. I’m struggling to find meaning. I’m a writer, so I turn to words, but they fail me. They remain elusive and weak.
But I haven’t cried yet today, so I guess that is progress. Right? Just don’t think about it. There’s nothing you can do, anyway. Move on. Do something else so you won’t think about the final moments of that precious little girl. Isn’t that how we have all learned to cope?
Terrorists crash airplanes into buildings, tsunamis and earthquakes kill millions, little girls are dismembered and put into freezers, and we move on. Turn on the television. Look for something to watch. Anything to keep from thinking. Keep from feeling.
Only, I’m not moving. I’m still feeling. And I’m still asking. Why?
Cheryl Shireman
Cheryl Shireman is the bestselling author of several novels, including Broken Resolutions, the Life is But a Dream series, and the Cooper Moon series. She is also the author of ten books for toddlers including the eight Let’s Learn About series focusing on different animals and I Love You When: For Girls and I Love You When: For Boys.
Stop making me cry, Shireman. I’m in Starbucks and it’s embarrassing.
That’s the second time I’ve made someone cry in a coffee shop. Seems to be a trend.
But, you might as well join me, Christine. Some things are meant to be cried about. 🙁
Thanks for your comment. I appreciate it.
Hi Cheryl, on Dec 24th, Stu and I were in town and drove down the road, and saw all the fireman in the woods, and we did get the sickest feeling. Later we heard what had happened. It is hard to get past, or even comprehend…but one thing that helps me, is, that he didn’t kill her 2 sisters that were also staying there. They were spared. Take care. Cindy
This has to be tough on the whole community. Can’t even imagine.
This absolutely breaks my heart, on several levels–for the family, for how meaninglessness trauma seems. You’re right about how we often cope, turning to entertainment to numb (or prevent) thought and pain.
Yes – several levels.
The family, the authorities who found her, the parents of this “man” who did this.
Heartbroken too.
She is in the Father’s arms now in a perfect body never to suffer again. Never to taste the sting of death again for all eternity. The Bible tells us to not fear those that can kill the body, but to fear the one who can kill the soul. The man who did this will have an eternity to be without the love of the Father. Weep, but continue to live, breathe, and write my friend.
I’ m trying. Right now all I can do is cry. Trying to make sense of it. Perhaps writing this is a step in that direction.
I cannot imagine the pain the family must be experiencing.
Thank you Shirley.
Thanks for this, Cheryl. I think that regardless of what core beliefs provide us comfort, we need to question them. If we can’t question them, they’re habits, not beliefs.
And yes, I cried when I read that story. I wasn’t in a coffee shop, though.
Sitting here. I’m still crying. Obviously, these kind of tragedies happen all of the time. Not sure why this one hit home so hard. Perhaps the horrific nature. Definitely because it was a child. Our most precious gift.
Thanks Connie.
Hi Cheryl, on Dec 24th, Stu and I were in town and drove down the road, and saw all the fireman in the woods, and we did get the sickest feeling. Later we heard what had happened. It is hard to get past, or even comprehend…but one thing that helps me, is, that he didn’t kill her 2 sisters that were also staying there. They were spared. Take care. Cindy
Things like that are mainly why I don’t watch the news. There are so many terrible things happening out there. It is sad that life goes on after things like this. And I agree, let adults kill adults, if they must. But leave our children alone.
Marla
Yes – leave the children alone.
I know there is so much good in the world, but when something like this happens, that is all overshadowed.
I really dont like crying, and reading your post has made me do it.
You should write for a living. You have a way of making the words you put down get under your skin and live there.
I THOUGHT I would get through today without crying. But nope. Reading all of these posts has just brought on the waterworks.
I am supposed to be working on a novel today. Concentration is terrible. Maybe later.
Thanks Melissa.
Hugs and love 🙁
Hugs and love back at you, Heather. 🙁
It was a similar event in the UK that inspired, if that’s the right word, our novel Sugar & Spice.
A six year old sleeping with friends in a garden tent on a summer’s evening. We don’t know if she was taken from the tent or woke up and wandered off. We do know her battered, sexually assaulted body was found washed up on the beach the next morning. The man later convicted lived just a few hundred yards from my home in that same town.
I asked the same questions. Why?
Sugar & Spice was the result. The cover blurb asks, “When you think the unthinkable, where do you turn?”
There are no definitive answers. Every case is different. Every culprit different. Every victim different.
Two years’ harrowing research into the mind of people who would do something like this led to the key plots in the story. Three men: one a child killer at large, one a convicted child-abuser wrongly arrested, one thinking the unthinkable and trying to find help before it’s too late.
When I read of incidents like this I think of the latter. That strand of the story was based on a real-life abuser who was being jailed in the UK and asked the judge to imprison him for longer because he knew he would hurt another child if released.
I leave the question of why God chose not to intervene to the theologians.
But the question of whether this man could have been identified sooner and helped to overcome whatever drove him on, before it was too late, is one we all need to ask.
We asked it, and tried to answer it, by writing a novel. Anyone who thinks Sugar & Spice is just another serial killer slasher novel should take a second look. It’s not easy reading, but it’s a novel anyone who cares about children should read.
When someone thinks the unthinkable, where can they turn?
For those of you who do not know Mark. Yes – he is a bestselling author, but more importantly, MUCH more importantly – he is a man who cares for children and does his best to make their lives better. From a place where that is not always easy – West Africa.
Thank you so much for sharing this story with us.
As writers, I believe that is what we do to make sense of the world – we write. Some things, though, make no sense and never will.
Perhaps the best we can hope for is to express our pain and confusion.
All the unspeakable grief in this world. I cry and then feel bad for NOT crying, for moving on. I have read accounts of people helped at just the right moment who claim “angelic” intervention. Where were the angels for that little girl? Such evil strengthens the resolve to be good.
I know – I keep thinking that, too. Why couldn’t someone/something protect her. No answers. Thanks for stopping by Lindsay.
Cheryl, I’m a counselor specializing in grief/loss issues. I wrote a book about the losses of life called sifted as wheat. I field questions on the site under the ask rita link–anonymously of course. It’s so normal to be angry at God at times like this, we can’t make sense of a tragedy like this, and its so unfair. I would encourage you to tell God about your feelings, just like Job did. Rant Rave do what needs doing. If your interested, I did a podcast show with a woman who faced the death of her little boy, her mom, being molested and then got breast cancer. you can listen to the 2 part show on my website under heartline podcast. its teresa sours. the link is http://www.siftedaswheat.com/heartline-podcast. Maybe her words will be helpful blessings rita schulte
Thanks for stopping by – and for the kind words. I appreciate it, Rita.
I was told that even murderers and child abusers have free will, yes. But also that God has a special punishment reserved for those who harm children. So I hold onto that thought.
Thanks Diana.
On the other end of the spectrum, someone shared this video of Ben Breedlove with me today.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vw5HLT-TyRs&feature=share
I would suggest that all of you watch it. Beautiful. Opposite end of the spectrum.
I understand exactly why you broke down over a young girl you didn’t know. You have such a big heart.
That happened to me when I was doing research work and found that just blocks from where I was working a young girl had been beaten and burned with cigarettes, picked up by her feet and swung so that her head hit the wall. This was by her mother’s boyfriend. When she died they buried her, but were caught and are still in jail. I nearly died myself from heartbreak over this and finally had to “force” myself to not think about it.