Dear Neighbor,

Although we have never met, I silently watch your struggles.
My heart lurched when you screamed at your twelve year old son.
I saw you clutch your stomach, your brow furrowed, the words profane,
saying things to the boy that can’t be undone.

He had a box of matches and we all talked to the police.
We stood there in the street listening as your ex- husband told us
that you caught him smoking and stealing and then he said,
“The police told me to beat his ass.” That’s when I dropped my head.
"My boy told me"... 'I smoke, because you aren’t here Dad.'
"I have a big house and she,” he said, pointing at the rental,
“has to live here, I know... it’s sad.”

The next day, I saw you hesitate, before you slowly pulled away.
You stared at your front door for the longest time,
frumpy in jeans and shirt, your short curly hair astray.
You have let yourself go and you don't care if it shows,
I wish there was something I could do.
I have felt your kind of heartache and believe me I know,
that sometimes they don’t have a clue.

If I get involved would you see me as nosey? The empathy I feel has my stomach hurting, what if I approached you before you are ready,
would it seem intrusive or disconcerting? … I fear so.

When I was a young Mommy he left me with four little children.
If it wasn’t for them, I would have folded. Branded on welfare, feeling sick yet emboldened, my dad helped and bought me an old car. Dug in and angry with a stubborn resolve, I fought my personal war.

By the grace of God I finished school and through prayer and faith, I made it through and because I know how it feels, it makes me want to rush over to you and bandage your permanent wounds.

But instead, I watch from my window, forcing myself to stay away.
You have to find strength from inside, your pain is not about my life.
Way back then, when I was approached by well meaning people
I knew their inquiries were all about them not for me.
Most were curious and clumsy; some came with a cake
or an awkward smile. Social workers and Preachers came,
I let them help for awhile... however... I had to reach way down deep to survive, then analyze and prioritize and for the sake of your beautiful son,
you have to love him enough, to do the same.

I am praying for the appropriate time and if I can help I will, but not now, its all too raw for you and when you are angry, you are not receptive.