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February 1, 2008 Apocalypse for One
Out of the nineteen photos of Frances on my desk at work, three show her around eight to ten months of age. In one of them, from October that year, she is sitting facing Lake Ontario in a park, wearing orange corduroy pants and a white onesie with flowers embroidered around the neck. Her blond hair is shining in the Indian-summer sun and the grass is as green as green gets, the lake a calmer and darker version of the summer-blue sky. She is holding her arms out to either side for balance; in the moment after the picture was taken, she had fallen over backwards and bumped her head on the ground, and started to cry. In the second, she is in one of those bucket-style baby swings at a parkette, very clearly much too small for it (with the top digging into her armpits) except for the grin on her face, chubby little legs stuck straight out, hands clasped together. I remember, as she rode that day, her legs kicking, so unable was she to contain her excitement. In the third, also from October when we visited relatives in Montreal for Thanksgiving, she is being held by her Auntie. Her hair pokes out from underneath the hood of a burgundy velour jacket with "cutie" spelled out in buttons on the front. This is one of my favourite pictures of her, ever, her eyes crinkled and her cheeks round with the huge grin on her face. There never has been a smilier smile. That gleeful face still makes me happy. This face should look the same. I can't even tell you who she is, because nobody knows. Well, someone must know, but they're not telling. I look at Frances in my photo, face all stretched out with smiling, and wonder what would have had to happen to her to put that despair in her eyes. It doesn't bear thinking of, but I can't help thinking of it. I look at that nameless, joyless little face, and imagine her wearing the same grin, secure in the midst of a tribe of adults who adore her. So secure she never considers it; it's her birthright, as constant and consistent as air. I imagine her kicking her feet for joy in a baby bucket swing, precariously balancing on the soft grass in the sun of an Indian summer day. I imagine Frances lying face-down and bleeding in a cold stairwell for two hours, knowing that no one is coming back, and so filled with despair that she doesn't even cry. I hate to think that my little girl is fortunate simply for being loved and cared for, coddled and cosseted, with parents who celebrate her triumphs and are there with a cuddle and kiss when she needs to be unwedged from the toilet seat or has bonked her head on the ground. I hate to think she is lucky for the white onesie with the flowers embroidered on the neck, the red velour hoodie, the bucket swing. It ought to be a birthright. These blank eyes should never exist in a baby's face. But there they are. And if we can't even get this right, what good are we? Posted by Andrea at February 1, 2008 10:49 AM under Mothers and Anti-Mothers , The World EMAIL this entry (comments fields are below this section) Comments Between this story and the one out of Sask two days ago, I have found myself once again crippled in the face of the news. How can I/we persist in believing that there is hope for this world when such things happen? Posted by: Mad at February 1, 2008 11:22 AM
I hope who ever left her is prosecuted. I hope she is placed with a family and she can grow up and be as happy as little Frances. Every child deserves that. I thank the stars above this little abandonned baby girl didn't perish in that cold stairwell. It's so hard to beleive such awful people exist. Posted by: LauraJ at February 1, 2008 11:30 AM
This story saddens me as well. I look at my two girls and feel the joy and love they bring me, and I can't even imagine what it would take for me to just get rid of them. I hope she finds love and peace again...soon. Posted by: Wendy at February 1, 2008 11:38 AM
I find myself wondering if we even deserve to be saved, if this is the best we can manage. Posted by: Andrea
Oh man. That is heartbreaking. I despair of the human race sometimes. Posted by: Major Bedhead at February 1, 2008 12:51 PM
I'm following that story obsessively. One article said that, in fact, the maximum sentence for child abandonment is only two years, and few people are prosecuted. The police believe something unusual is going on here, in which case there could be additional crimes involved. Apparently it is very rare that no one steps forward to say "That's my niece" or "That's my neighbor" so they think there is a chance the parents are also in danger. The little girl looks a bit like my daughter -- my husband held the picture up the other day and said "Do you want to adopt a baby?" And in fact, today's paper says 15 families have called to ask about adopting her. I have hope that she is young enough, and only superficially damaged, so that a few months of loving care will bring her smile back. Those two little girls in Sask, though. The pain is too much. Posted by: Madeleine at February 1, 2008 1:01 PM
I've been trying to avoid both of these stories because it is so painful. Obviously, since I posted about it, I got sucked in. The whole thing is so strange and awful. How could nobody recognize this girl? Posted by: Andrea
Ohhhhhh ow. That's the sound I make when my heart breaks. How far back and how deep down does pain go that one is so something (dead?) inside to decide this is all that can be done? Not too long ago, a little two year old was found stuffed in a trunk. She floated ashore on the coast a little south of here. People were shattered over it. They searched locally at first, to no avail. When they widened their search, they found a father and grandmother seeking a toddler missing, never returned from a visit with her mother. The father and grandmother held photos on the news and cried, begging people to tell them anything about their missing little girl. They stoically answered nosey news questions, hoping the little girl in the trunk wasn't theirs. But she was. Mom and new boyfriend had done it. And why? Why? You don't want her but you won't let her go, not to a dad who wants her, and why not? I can't find any compassion for that mother and her boyfriend. That little girl reminded me of Persistence and I had so many of the same feelings you describe here. Posted by: Julie Pippert at February 1, 2008 1:56 PM
I'm having a hard time handling this story. But the story about the two sisters in Sask? Cannot handle that one. Unthinkable, all of it. Posted by: kgirl at February 1, 2008 2:57 PM
This makes me feel physically ill. Posted by: yankee,transferred at February 1, 2008 5:22 PM
When I heard on CBC that 15 families had called CAS offering to adopt her, I got a little annoyed. I know people feel their heart pulling at stories like this. I told my husband that I hope CAS told all 15 of those families to come in and get an application, start a homestudy and the PRIDE (adoptive/foster parents training courses)because even if they don't adopt THAT child, there are at least 14 others out there who could use a home. It is pretty disgusting to see how some people treat their children. Posted by: LisaC at February 1, 2008 6:11 PM
LisaC, I know what you mean. The good thing is, it got us talking about actually maybe adopting for real in a couple of years. I googled immediately and read about PRIDE etc. So if any of the other families took it seriously also, there may be a little bit of positive change. Posted by: Madeleine at February 1, 2008 8:50 PM
there have been a rash of horrible stories about children lately. babies thrown off bridges, cooked in microwaves (if you haven't heard about that one do not go looking for it, just a friendly suggestion) and each time a little part of me dies. it's unbelievable how some people treat babies, and how they can ever live with themselves. Posted by: jen at February 1, 2008 11:05 PM
The poor baby. And, I can't help but think, the poor mother, because something must be dreadfully wrong with her for this to have happened. I hope that baby lands in a loving home, and that maybe some other children do as well, due to the publicity. I don't think I can bear to go find out what happened to the two sisters in Saskatchewan. (It hasn't been reported down here in my part of the world.) Andrea, this is an odd post for me to delurk on, but I really appreciate your blog. You are a wonderful writer, and clearly also a wonderful mother for Frances. Posted by: Cloud at February 2, 2008 12:19 AM
Thank you, Cloud. It's nice to 'meet' you. This morning's adoptive family count was up to 35. I hope some of them do carry through with other kids. It would be a good thing to come out of this. The thing that is striking is that hte baby was well cared for, well dressed and clean and well-fed--which is why they think the mother may be in danger too. Which is even worse, I think. I almost hope that it was her decision to "throw her away," because at least then it's only the baby who is suffering, not also her mother. jen, no worries here. I will not be googling "babies" and "microwaves". Posted by: Andrea
jen is right that there are so many awful news stories about children right now. I don't get it, I mean, how I should feel. Is it desperation that is driving it? or just cold-bloodedness? And which is worse? Posted by: Gwen at February 2, 2008 2:22 PM
Those eyes are heartbreaking. Posted by: Sue at February 2, 2008 5:47 PM
I cant imagine what must be going on with this child. To be left alone, in a parking garage. But perhaps the mother was in danger too and she thought it was the best chance for the little one. Posted by: TT at February 2, 2008 6:55 PM
I am so sad about this. Posted by: Liz at February 2, 2008 11:05 PM
That is just sick. Awful and sick. Posted by: Emily R at February 3, 2008 3:36 PM
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