Hole in the Wall
Who Are the Real Animals?
RECEIVED Tue., Feb. 17, 2009
Dear Editor,
My only child was my best friend, but he committed suicide several years ago, leaving me with no emotional support from anyone – no family, no friends – totally alone in a new neighborhood that distanced itself from any new neighbor.
While experiencing the deepest pain, darkness, and despair a single parent could go through, I found a light in the distance that gave me hope – that I might possibly survive this tragic ordeal – her name is Ellé. She makes me smile; she is my new friend! I cry as I write this.
Ellé has the most beautiful brown eyes that I have ever seen. She looks at me with hope in her eyes as she watches my every move. She trusts me. I watched when she had her baby and became a single mom like me.
Ellé hurt her foot somehow and was unable to get up or take care of her baby, so I gave her medicine for 10 days in the food that I served her. I could tell she was grateful even though she did not speak.
Ellé and her baby have given me something that no human has been able to give me during my continuous grief that will never have closure.
Each morning brings excitement and happiness because of Ellé and her baby. I am overwhelmed as they greet me to eat the breakfast that I have prepared for them; my delight as they drink the fresh water I gift them with.
But now Ellé and her little baby are going to be homeless, forced by a new law to move on where there will be no protection. I am so very worried about them and their future. In 10 days I will not be allowed to serve Ellé and her baby any more food. I think it will do great harm to withdraw food so quickly and starve her and her baby – such a slow and painful death that awaits them – starvation. There is nothing for them to eat in the “wild,” there is no place for them to go, because “we” have invaded their “wild.” They were here first – what type of animals are we?
My only child was my best friend, but he committed suicide several years ago, leaving me with no emotional support from anyone – no family, no friends – totally alone in a new neighborhood that distanced itself from any new neighbor.
While experiencing the deepest pain, darkness, and despair a single parent could go through, I found a light in the distance that gave me hope – that I might possibly survive this tragic ordeal – her name is Ellé. She makes me smile; she is my new friend! I cry as I write this.
Ellé has the most beautiful brown eyes that I have ever seen. She looks at me with hope in her eyes as she watches my every move. She trusts me. I watched when she had her baby and became a single mom like me.
Ellé hurt her foot somehow and was unable to get up or take care of her baby, so I gave her medicine for 10 days in the food that I served her. I could tell she was grateful even though she did not speak.
Ellé and her baby have given me something that no human has been able to give me during my continuous grief that will never have closure.
Each morning brings excitement and happiness because of Ellé and her baby. I am overwhelmed as they greet me to eat the breakfast that I have prepared for them; my delight as they drink the fresh water I gift them with.
But now Ellé and her little baby are going to be homeless, forced by a new law to move on where there will be no protection. I am so very worried about them and their future. In 10 days I will not be allowed to serve Ellé and her baby any more food. I think it will do great harm to withdraw food so quickly and starve her and her baby – such a slow and painful death that awaits them – starvation. There is nothing for them to eat in the “wild,” there is no place for them to go, because “we” have invaded their “wild.” They were here first – what type of animals are we?
Judy Leary