|Exhibit/Exposición: Wounded Boys - Courageous Men |
Childhood should be a happy time, nurturing time, caring time, loving time, and a time to learn and develop. At St. John's it wasn't happy. I was placed there in November 1951 after my mother’s suicide. I was an illegitimate child and I had to pray for forgiveness for my mother's lust. I was twelve years old.
Healing through group sharing I could begin by listening to other people and realize their story was my story - their abuse was my abuse. I wasn't alone and I realized I wasn't dirty or bad.
They abused a sacred trust and took that trust and misused it for their own self-gratification. This authority was a gift from the Creator and they abused it as they ruined the lives of many generations to come. It will take seven generations to heal this evil.
|WOUNDED BOYS - COURAGEOUS MEN|
No one cares to seek the truth,
No one dares to find the proof.
No one wanted them anyway,
They were boys the wayward strays.
Wounded boys from a tragic past,
Broken families marked their path.
Children who cried to sleep at night,
Darkened journeys of fear and fright.
Who would want these wounded boys?
Who could bother to bring them joy?
Left to seek and meet their fate,
In a place of lust and hate.
Molested and battered, they walk through life,
Marking their journey of toil and strife.
Boys grow older and become men,
Hiding their sorrow from wife and kin.
Time has passed and freed at last,
Courageous men speak of their past.
Their stories of misery heartache and pain,
Memories that haunt them, again and again.