Last week, on an Indian Reserve in Saskatchewan, during a bitter cold spell in the West, two little girls were killed. I say they were killed, not just that they died, because their parents caused their death. Their Mom and Dad had argued that evening and the mother left the two toddlers alone with their drunk father. The father was so intoxicated that he took the girls outside in diapers and t-shirts, somehow dropped them in a field, and forgot all about them. The temperature outside was nearing -50. When the father was being treated at the hospital hours later, he asked where his kids were, and only then were authorities alerted to the horrible events of the night before and the tragic consequences of his actions. The little girls were 1 and 3 years old.
As you might imagine, I could go on for hours about this tragedy. But I won't even start on the gross negligence of people who expose their young children to an environment filled with drugs and alcohol. Or the irresponsibility of a mother who leaves her kids with someone too drunk to care for himself, let alone two babies in diapers. Or a father who would take his kids from their beds at night to roam the streets, drunk, in frigid temperatures. And I won't even begin to go off on someone who would drop their babies in the snow and walk away. Who forgets about them for hours, as they perish in the middle of a field. Nor will I comment on a community so accustomed to abhorrent behavior and substance abuse that these parents were allowed to engage in this kind of activity, at their children's peril, without any intervention. Where this tragedy is not only accepted, but tolerated, and even justified. "It's not his fault, he has a drinking problem. He's very sorry." Couldn't I just snap when I hear that. That excuse would never fly with Children's Aid here in town, nor with the people who live in Port Hawkesbury, or in any other responsible community in the civilized Western world. No, I won't write an article about the parents or the community. My blood is boiling, and once I start ranting, I won't be able to stop. God knows I've lost enough sleep over it already.
Life is unfair when people lacking the character and heart to care for children, are blessed with that privilege and then abuse it. There are people in this world who would have cherished and protected those two little girls, some of which have, through no fault of their own, lost the opportunity to do the same for their own children. It makes me sick to my stomach just thinking about it. When I think about families like that of Karissa Boudreau, the little girl who disappeared in Bridgewater, and all the other people who have lost their own children, it breaks my heart. And then I hear about selfish people who throw it all away? It disgusts and infuriates me.
My kids are noisy and hyper and can be, quite frankly, extremely annoying. I've told them countless times to be more quiet, to stop running. My grandmother always says, "Let them run. If they couldn't move or speak, you'd wish they would." Never before has that wisdom hit home more than this past week. I'll keep the newspaper clipping of the story of those two little Saskatchewan girls on my fridge, to remind us every time we get frustrated, how lost we'd be without that same noise and chaos we complain about.
It can be difficult to see your children's beauty as they're swinging from the light fixtures and dumping boxes of Froot Loops on the living room rug. But let us all have the presence of mind to provide the protection and care that every child deserves, even when life challenges us. Let us all ensure the safety of the kids around us and make changes where necessary, even if it means sticking your nose where you otherwise wouldn't. As parents, let us remember that kids are the light in our lives. And when it gets tough, remember those mothers and fathers who would do anything to hear that yelling and thumping.
"Don't it always seem to go, that you don't know what you got 'til it's gone...."
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