It has been nearly five years since three-year-old Marcus Fiesel was murdered by his foster parents. It feels like yesterday when I listened to Hamilton County Prosecutor, Joe Deters, speak at a press conference detailing the horrific manner in which Marcus died. The toddler was wrapped up like a mummy with his arms pinned behind him and held bound by a blanket and packing tape. He died a slow, torturous death, stuffed into a hot closet and left there alone while his foster family went out of town. My heart shattered. I wasn't the only one devastated by his death.
We, as a community, were outraged. We demanded answers. We demanded justice. We demanded change for the vulnerable children still in foster care who needed out help. But in five years, we've moved on. Have our foster children? How have they fared since Marcus' death shook the system, and the rest of us, to the core?
On Thursday, November 18, UC Clermont College will host a symposium on what system leaders and child advocates have learned since Marcus' death and what has changed. We will discuss the gaps discovered when authorities retraced the steps leading to Marcus' placement in the foster home of Liz and David Carroll. We will talk about changes in law and changes in policies governing the care and oversight of foster kids.
More importantly, we'll talk and listen to each other as passionate people who want to work together to improve the system for all our foster children. College students and community members will join us as we put our best thinking forward. We hope you will too.
Marcus Fiesel, Lessons Learned: A Five-Year Retrospective Review
UC Clermont College, Kreuger Auditorium
Thursday, November 18
2-4 PM, book signing and reception immediately following
Questions? page.beetm@uc.edu or jill.gomez@uc.edu
I am a mother of three, child advocate, and author of Invisible Kids. Here I'll tell you a little about some of the foster children in our communities and most importantly, how you can get involved and help them.
Monday, November 15, 2010
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
Got Peeps?
Just last week someone asked me if I collected anything. "As a matter of fact, I do," I answered. "I collect friends." I've never been one to clutter up my life with a bunch of stuff. I'd much rather be surrounded with friends and family who daily engage in the give and take of life. The relationships I cultivate and tend are central to the deep satisfaction I experience in life. I need my peeps and they need me.
Think about it. Anything of any value that has ever stood the test of time was the direct result of a relationship. Healthy relationships with the people in our lives build, nurture, and sustain us. The absence of such relationships leaves us vulnerable and compromised. This is especially true for children who are growing and learning about our world and how it works.
I've long thought that basic needs for children should include food, water, shelter, and a healthy, loving relationship with at least one competent adult. Science tells us so.
When making decisions about the lives of children, too many professionals fail to consider this important fact. Childhoods are destroyed and futures compromised as a result. Sometimes we are more focused on parental rights or those of blood-related relatives than we are on the non-negotiable needs of children.
Consider the case of two-year-old Vanessa. Her birth mother consented to her adoption upon Vanessa's birth. For whatever reason, her birth father was not involved in the adoption decision. He should have been, and it is wrong that he wasn't. But it is more wrong to return a toddler whose entire world revolves around the loving care her adoptive mother has given her. It is more wrong to take away the center of Vanessa's world and thrust her across the country into the arms of a stranger who has been convicted of multiple domestic violence charges and is not parenting any of his other children. Too often, we rip children from the loving embraces of people who have mothered and fathered them in the truest sense of the word and put kids with strangers who happen to share their biology. Where is the science that supports this?
Children need people who can love, support, and provide for them, as well as offer consistency and stability. And once a child is securely attached to such an adult and is thriving, the train has left the station. Why derail it? The rest of us need to get onboard.
The Got Milk? Campaign was successful at doing a body good. Maybe a Got Peeps? Campaign will do our babies good.
Think about it. Anything of any value that has ever stood the test of time was the direct result of a relationship. Healthy relationships with the people in our lives build, nurture, and sustain us. The absence of such relationships leaves us vulnerable and compromised. This is especially true for children who are growing and learning about our world and how it works.
I've long thought that basic needs for children should include food, water, shelter, and a healthy, loving relationship with at least one competent adult. Science tells us so.
When making decisions about the lives of children, too many professionals fail to consider this important fact. Childhoods are destroyed and futures compromised as a result. Sometimes we are more focused on parental rights or those of blood-related relatives than we are on the non-negotiable needs of children.
Consider the case of two-year-old Vanessa. Her birth mother consented to her adoption upon Vanessa's birth. For whatever reason, her birth father was not involved in the adoption decision. He should have been, and it is wrong that he wasn't. But it is more wrong to return a toddler whose entire world revolves around the loving care her adoptive mother has given her. It is more wrong to take away the center of Vanessa's world and thrust her across the country into the arms of a stranger who has been convicted of multiple domestic violence charges and is not parenting any of his other children. Too often, we rip children from the loving embraces of people who have mothered and fathered them in the truest sense of the word and put kids with strangers who happen to share their biology. Where is the science that supports this?
Children need people who can love, support, and provide for them, as well as offer consistency and stability. And once a child is securely attached to such an adult and is thriving, the train has left the station. Why derail it? The rest of us need to get onboard.
The Got Milk? Campaign was successful at doing a body good. Maybe a Got Peeps? Campaign will do our babies good.
Monday, August 23, 2010
WANTED: Loving Caregiver for Abused Baby Girl
Requirements: Must be a licensed foster parent. Love, structured routine, bedtime stories, hugs, and kisses desperately needed but not mandatory.
Immediate Availability.
How many of you would sign up if you came across an ad like this? How many of you would say yes if I stopped you in the parking lot at Target as you buckled your own kids safely into their car or booster seats? If I came to you and said, “Look, there is a ten-month-old baby girl sitting in the county children’s services office with caseworkers while they look for a home for her. She was exposed to cocaine, and not just prenatal. She has to go somewhere. Tonight. She can’t sleep or be raised in an ugly gray cubicle with ancient computer equipment. She needs YOU. Can you take her?”
How many of you would say yes? How many of you would think about it, go home, and talk to your spouse? How many of you would cruise the Internet for information on how to become a foster parent? How many of you would swallow down the fear that catches in your throat and trust that you can give a precious child a chance at a childhood? Your arms are the ones needed to comfort and console a baby who was dropped into this world without safe arms waiting to catch and protect her.
Go. Now. Google. Talk about it. Figure it out. Then sign yourselves up. Because children under age five make up the fastest growing group of kids in foster care. They are more likely to be abused in foster care than older children and more likely to stay in foster care longer. They desperately need you.
Please (and thank you).
Immediate Availability.
How many of you would sign up if you came across an ad like this? How many of you would say yes if I stopped you in the parking lot at Target as you buckled your own kids safely into their car or booster seats? If I came to you and said, “Look, there is a ten-month-old baby girl sitting in the county children’s services office with caseworkers while they look for a home for her. She was exposed to cocaine, and not just prenatal. She has to go somewhere. Tonight. She can’t sleep or be raised in an ugly gray cubicle with ancient computer equipment. She needs YOU. Can you take her?”
How many of you would say yes? How many of you would think about it, go home, and talk to your spouse? How many of you would cruise the Internet for information on how to become a foster parent? How many of you would swallow down the fear that catches in your throat and trust that you can give a precious child a chance at a childhood? Your arms are the ones needed to comfort and console a baby who was dropped into this world without safe arms waiting to catch and protect her.
Go. Now. Google. Talk about it. Figure it out. Then sign yourselves up. Because children under age five make up the fastest growing group of kids in foster care. They are more likely to be abused in foster care than older children and more likely to stay in foster care longer. They desperately need you.
Please (and thank you).
Thursday, June 24, 2010
Remembering Marcus Fiesel on his Birthday
Birthdays in the lives of children are important and often celebrated. As the mother of three children, I’ve organized and agonized over a number of birthdays and the parties that routinely accompany them. But when it’s all said and done, what seems to be most important to my kids on their birthday is the feeling of being special. They want to hear stories about day they were born along with stories of being babies and toddlers. They need to know their arrival in this world mattered. They want to be loved and to belong.
All children share these longings. Unfortunately, not all children are celebrated and find a place of belonging with people who love them unconditionally. Three-year-old Marcus Fiesel was one such child. He was removed from the care of his biological mother at age 2 for reasons of abuse and neglect. He was returned to her and removed again. At the time of his third birthday he was living with his foster parents. They killed him six weeks later.
Today would have been Marcus’ 7th birthday.
As the story of Marcus’ brutal death at the hands of his foster parents unfolded, people were outraged that a child under the custody of the government-run foster care system could be tortured and killed by those who were entrusted to care for him. We demanded answers and improvements in the very foster care system central to his suffering.
Things have changed in the three years since Marcus died. The foster care system of 2006 is much different than the foster care system of 2010. In many ways, it is worse.
Today, the government system charged with overseeing the care of foster children faces crippling budget cuts due to our current economic crisis. Due to layoffs at Children’s Services agencies across the nation, there is less supervision of caseworkers and fewer support staff. In Hamilton County, there is little money left for relatives who step up to care for children whose parents have failed them. Adoptions subsidies are reduced, and post-adoption services for children have been eliminated.
Marcus’ story shone light on a system that betrayed him. While many foster parents are loving and well intentioned, not all of them are. While many caseworkers are caring and competent, too many are overburdened, burned-out, and occasionally reckless. While the court system is designed to protect the best interests of these children, laws that govern them tie judge’s hands.
The answers to these problems do not lie in the current system. The solutions lie in the community. Thousands of volunteers responded to the park to search for Marcus when he was reported missing. Marcus’ death marked the end of his life but the beginning of a wake-up call to his community. But have we fallen asleep again?
Today, Marcus isn’t here to blow out candles on a birthday cake or to receive gifts. Instead, we can give the gifts of our time, our passion, and our promise that we as a community will no longer ignore the problems facing our most vulnerable children.
This just could be the best birthday present little Marcus ever received: his legacy that we will take care of Cincinnati’s foster children. What a great gift to give our community and our foster children in honor of a little boy remembered more for how he died than how he lived.
Happy Birthday, little buddy. May you live on in our commitment to ensuring safe, stable, and loving homes for all of our children.
All children share these longings. Unfortunately, not all children are celebrated and find a place of belonging with people who love them unconditionally. Three-year-old Marcus Fiesel was one such child. He was removed from the care of his biological mother at age 2 for reasons of abuse and neglect. He was returned to her and removed again. At the time of his third birthday he was living with his foster parents. They killed him six weeks later.
Today would have been Marcus’ 7th birthday.
As the story of Marcus’ brutal death at the hands of his foster parents unfolded, people were outraged that a child under the custody of the government-run foster care system could be tortured and killed by those who were entrusted to care for him. We demanded answers and improvements in the very foster care system central to his suffering.
Things have changed in the three years since Marcus died. The foster care system of 2006 is much different than the foster care system of 2010. In many ways, it is worse.
Today, the government system charged with overseeing the care of foster children faces crippling budget cuts due to our current economic crisis. Due to layoffs at Children’s Services agencies across the nation, there is less supervision of caseworkers and fewer support staff. In Hamilton County, there is little money left for relatives who step up to care for children whose parents have failed them. Adoptions subsidies are reduced, and post-adoption services for children have been eliminated.
Marcus’ story shone light on a system that betrayed him. While many foster parents are loving and well intentioned, not all of them are. While many caseworkers are caring and competent, too many are overburdened, burned-out, and occasionally reckless. While the court system is designed to protect the best interests of these children, laws that govern them tie judge’s hands.
The answers to these problems do not lie in the current system. The solutions lie in the community. Thousands of volunteers responded to the park to search for Marcus when he was reported missing. Marcus’ death marked the end of his life but the beginning of a wake-up call to his community. But have we fallen asleep again?
Today, Marcus isn’t here to blow out candles on a birthday cake or to receive gifts. Instead, we can give the gifts of our time, our passion, and our promise that we as a community will no longer ignore the problems facing our most vulnerable children.
This just could be the best birthday present little Marcus ever received: his legacy that we will take care of Cincinnati’s foster children. What a great gift to give our community and our foster children in honor of a little boy remembered more for how he died than how he lived.
Happy Birthday, little buddy. May you live on in our commitment to ensuring safe, stable, and loving homes for all of our children.
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
Throw Our Foster Kids a Line
I’m sitting at my favorite Panera, drinking Light Roast Coffee. I can’t help but overhear a conversation at the table next to me. Three men are discussing the oil spill and the need to divert their summer vacation plans. I watched news coverage of the catastrophe last week with my out-of-town sisters who were visiting while our kids all played outside in the summer evening. The footage of ocean animals covered in slick, dark crud, desperately trying to shake their feathers clean, was upsetting to watch.
As usual, my mind turned to foster children. I thought about how they are awash in a sea of helplessness, struggling to shake free from the trauma and tragedy of the childhoods they never had. When they are turned to shore at age eighteen, emancipated, I think they feel relieved to be out of the ocean. However, that sandy shore is far from solid ground.
Sarah bounced around between foster homes, group homes, and locked mental health centers from the time she was six until she was eighteen. A ward of the state with no hope of returning to her mentally ill, drug-addicted mother and no hope of finding a forever family to adopt her, Sarah counted the days until she could be on her own, free of county caseworkers and the oversight of a juvenile court magistrate. I became Sarah's GAL when she was 14. I was forever advocating for services for her while encouraging her to finish her high school education while she was forever running away. It was too little, too late.
On the day she turned eighteen she called me. “I ain’t trying to diss you Ms. Holly, cuz you real nice and all, but I’m through with you people. I’m moving on.” I begged her not to walk away, to let the system people at least help make sure she had stable housing. “I’m done.” Since she was clear about this decision and there was no changing her mind, I asked her to let me take her out to lunch to celebrate her birthday. The next day we sat at a restaurant in Northern Kentucky overlooking the Cincinnati skyline. She was amazed at how pretty it was. “You mean that’s the city I’ve been living in?” she asked, incredulously. She spent years on the streets of Cincinnati, sleeping wherever she could find a couch, running from system people. Unable to step back and see the forest for the trees, she couldn’t see how staying in the system voluntarily and accepting help with housing and education was a good choice. She was itching to make all of her adult decisions on her own. She was out of the ocean of foster care, covered with a heavy coat of abandonment, trauma, abuse, and neglect. To think she could shake it off all on her own was ludicrous. I knew that but she didn’t. And what I thought didn’t matter.
Thousands of America’s abused and neglected children adrift in the sea of foster care are plucked by skilled and devoted hands that bring them to a safe harbor. Unfortunately, thousands more are not.
Across the country people are watching the oil spill and pondering the effects of this disaster. Many are helping where they can.
Likewise, many people are reaching out a hand to foster children and pulling them to safety. But they can’t do it on their own and desperately need more hands on deck.
Please consider how you can throw our foster kids a line.
As usual, my mind turned to foster children. I thought about how they are awash in a sea of helplessness, struggling to shake free from the trauma and tragedy of the childhoods they never had. When they are turned to shore at age eighteen, emancipated, I think they feel relieved to be out of the ocean. However, that sandy shore is far from solid ground.
Sarah bounced around between foster homes, group homes, and locked mental health centers from the time she was six until she was eighteen. A ward of the state with no hope of returning to her mentally ill, drug-addicted mother and no hope of finding a forever family to adopt her, Sarah counted the days until she could be on her own, free of county caseworkers and the oversight of a juvenile court magistrate. I became Sarah's GAL when she was 14. I was forever advocating for services for her while encouraging her to finish her high school education while she was forever running away. It was too little, too late.
On the day she turned eighteen she called me. “I ain’t trying to diss you Ms. Holly, cuz you real nice and all, but I’m through with you people. I’m moving on.” I begged her not to walk away, to let the system people at least help make sure she had stable housing. “I’m done.” Since she was clear about this decision and there was no changing her mind, I asked her to let me take her out to lunch to celebrate her birthday. The next day we sat at a restaurant in Northern Kentucky overlooking the Cincinnati skyline. She was amazed at how pretty it was. “You mean that’s the city I’ve been living in?” she asked, incredulously. She spent years on the streets of Cincinnati, sleeping wherever she could find a couch, running from system people. Unable to step back and see the forest for the trees, she couldn’t see how staying in the system voluntarily and accepting help with housing and education was a good choice. She was itching to make all of her adult decisions on her own. She was out of the ocean of foster care, covered with a heavy coat of abandonment, trauma, abuse, and neglect. To think she could shake it off all on her own was ludicrous. I knew that but she didn’t. And what I thought didn’t matter.
Thousands of America’s abused and neglected children adrift in the sea of foster care are plucked by skilled and devoted hands that bring them to a safe harbor. Unfortunately, thousands more are not.
Across the country people are watching the oil spill and pondering the effects of this disaster. Many are helping where they can.
Likewise, many people are reaching out a hand to foster children and pulling them to safety. But they can’t do it on their own and desperately need more hands on deck.
Please consider how you can throw our foster kids a line.
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
Can Little Fleas Biting Take Down a Big Dog?
"So often we think we have got to make a difference and be a big dog. Let us just try to be little fleas biting. Enough fleas biting strategically can make a big dog very uncomfortable.” ~Marian Wright Edelman, Founder of the Children's Defense Fund
It was a warm April evening in 2007 when I went to meet five-year-old Joey*. He had been in foster care for only one night when I had sat through a court hearing listening to the facts of his case. I came home from court, had dinner with Ed and the kids and then headed out to see Joey. I just couldn’t rest until I laid eyes on him and the foster home where he had been placed.
My book, Invisible Kids: Marcus Fiesel’s Legacy, begins with the conversation Joey and I had that April night. Somewhere between the words rushing out of his mouth and the fear in his eyes, something inside of me shifted. I was the same Guardian Ad Litem (GAL) I had been for nearly a decade, but in the flash of a second, between his words, my commitment to him and kids like him took a radically different turn.
I didn’t know exactly how I would do it, but I was determined to educate people about the tragedies facing foster children with the hope of empowering them to get involved. Foster child Marcus Fiesel’s death proved the government could fatally fail children. Joey’s fear demanded that I do something so that solutions could emerge. That evening at the kitchen table, my commitment to writing this book was solidified.
I wrote Invisible Kids by taking it one idea and one sentence at a time. The thought of writing a book was too overwhelming for me. I just told myself I had to write a paragraph. A year later, the manuscript was finished. I discuss this process in a podcast I did with Women Writing for a Change just after the book was released. Check it out HERE.
Joey had no way of knowing that he pushed me into writing Invisible Kids. In his childhood innocence and suffering, he refused to allow me to sit quiet any longer. He enabled me to see that I had an important message to bring to the world.
I’m extremely grateful for the countless people who have read my book and have been moved to action. I receive your emails and hear how you have made a difference for a child and I know that Marcus Fiesel’s death means something and we are bringing good from it. I also know that little Joey had an important contribution to foster care when he moved me to write about him and others.
Every significant accomplishment begins with a thought backed by a commitment to do the piece in front of us that we can do. Invisible Kids ends with a dozen ways to make a difference: some are big and some are small. All are doable. We don’t have to solve the foster care crisis overnight. We don’t have to find the one big answer to the problems facing our vulnerable children. We just have to do one small thing at a time, kind of like a flea biting a big dog.
*Joey’s name was changed to protect his identity.
It was a warm April evening in 2007 when I went to meet five-year-old Joey*. He had been in foster care for only one night when I had sat through a court hearing listening to the facts of his case. I came home from court, had dinner with Ed and the kids and then headed out to see Joey. I just couldn’t rest until I laid eyes on him and the foster home where he had been placed.
My book, Invisible Kids: Marcus Fiesel’s Legacy, begins with the conversation Joey and I had that April night. Somewhere between the words rushing out of his mouth and the fear in his eyes, something inside of me shifted. I was the same Guardian Ad Litem (GAL) I had been for nearly a decade, but in the flash of a second, between his words, my commitment to him and kids like him took a radically different turn.
I didn’t know exactly how I would do it, but I was determined to educate people about the tragedies facing foster children with the hope of empowering them to get involved. Foster child Marcus Fiesel’s death proved the government could fatally fail children. Joey’s fear demanded that I do something so that solutions could emerge. That evening at the kitchen table, my commitment to writing this book was solidified.
I wrote Invisible Kids by taking it one idea and one sentence at a time. The thought of writing a book was too overwhelming for me. I just told myself I had to write a paragraph. A year later, the manuscript was finished. I discuss this process in a podcast I did with Women Writing for a Change just after the book was released. Check it out HERE.
Joey had no way of knowing that he pushed me into writing Invisible Kids. In his childhood innocence and suffering, he refused to allow me to sit quiet any longer. He enabled me to see that I had an important message to bring to the world.
I’m extremely grateful for the countless people who have read my book and have been moved to action. I receive your emails and hear how you have made a difference for a child and I know that Marcus Fiesel’s death means something and we are bringing good from it. I also know that little Joey had an important contribution to foster care when he moved me to write about him and others.
Every significant accomplishment begins with a thought backed by a commitment to do the piece in front of us that we can do. Invisible Kids ends with a dozen ways to make a difference: some are big and some are small. All are doable. We don’t have to solve the foster care crisis overnight. We don’t have to find the one big answer to the problems facing our vulnerable children. We just have to do one small thing at a time, kind of like a flea biting a big dog.
*Joey’s name was changed to protect his identity.
Sunday, March 7, 2010
Esme's Light Shines On
Three times today I was annoyed at my kids for leaving the bathroom light on. Each time when I went to hit the switch to turn it off, I discovered it wasn’t on to begin with. The sun is finally shining after weeks of cold and ugly gray skies. I had gotten so accustomed to the gray that I had forgotten about brighter days when the sun streams through windows and casts light on every nook and cranny of my house, even the bathroom.
Although the sun is finally out after a long hiatus, gray clouds hang over my head today. Four children lost their mother this week after she was shot and killed by her sometimes boyfriend. Her three-week-old baby dropped from her arms as she fell to her death. For the past week, my thoughts have never strayed far from the family of Esme Kenney, a thirteen-year-old who went out for a jog on the first sunny spring-like day of 2009 when she met a nightmare named Anthony Kirkland. He (allegedly) murdered her. His trial began last week.
Just like Marcus Fiesel’s photo, I vividly remember seeing Esme’s picture flash across the TV news on the night of March 7, 2009. On the cusp of becoming a woman, she seemed childlike yet kind and wise beyond her years. There was a gentleness and sensitivity that radiated from her photo. My family and I prayed for her and her family that night. Two days later I went to mid-day mass to pray for her family as they digested the most horrible news anyone could receive about a precious child so loved.
Esme’s parents, Tom and Lisa Siders-Kenney, have every right to slam the door on life and live in hatred and excruciating pain. They must experience those days. Instead, just two weeks after Esme's death, Tom and Lisa issued a statement urging kindness. Read it here.
Something stronger than death is emerging in the countless good things that have been accomplished in the year since Esme died. The myriad of good deeds stretches across the globe but is held together by common themes of hope, courage, and tremendous love. A full list detailing the impact of Esme’s tragic death can be found here. It is amazing and powerful.
I’ve learned important truths while watching the story of Esme’s lasting impact on our world unfold over the past year. I’ve witnessed how an unspeakable act of violence can become the fertile ground of new growth, if passionate and courageous gardeners like Tom and Lisa tend it and a flock of loving family, friends, and strangers lend a hand. Tom and Lisa are teaching us that anything is possible when we work together. They are showing us the power of choosing life over death. They are reshaping our world with goodness and love.
Today is the first anniversary of Esme’s death. Tomorrow Esme’s mom will stand in a courtroom and testify against the man who took the life of her beloved girl. The gray clouds hanging over my head today pale in comparison to the darkness that must be raging in the hearts of Esme’s family. Even so, I pray that the light of Esme’s life radiates around them, envelopes them, and caresses them with her love and her presence. Her light, like the sun, is undeniable and brilliant. Even though it is sometimes hard to see and feel, it is always here.
Although the sun is finally out after a long hiatus, gray clouds hang over my head today. Four children lost their mother this week after she was shot and killed by her sometimes boyfriend. Her three-week-old baby dropped from her arms as she fell to her death. For the past week, my thoughts have never strayed far from the family of Esme Kenney, a thirteen-year-old who went out for a jog on the first sunny spring-like day of 2009 when she met a nightmare named Anthony Kirkland. He (allegedly) murdered her. His trial began last week.
Just like Marcus Fiesel’s photo, I vividly remember seeing Esme’s picture flash across the TV news on the night of March 7, 2009. On the cusp of becoming a woman, she seemed childlike yet kind and wise beyond her years. There was a gentleness and sensitivity that radiated from her photo. My family and I prayed for her and her family that night. Two days later I went to mid-day mass to pray for her family as they digested the most horrible news anyone could receive about a precious child so loved.
Esme’s parents, Tom and Lisa Siders-Kenney, have every right to slam the door on life and live in hatred and excruciating pain. They must experience those days. Instead, just two weeks after Esme's death, Tom and Lisa issued a statement urging kindness. Read it here.
Something stronger than death is emerging in the countless good things that have been accomplished in the year since Esme died. The myriad of good deeds stretches across the globe but is held together by common themes of hope, courage, and tremendous love. A full list detailing the impact of Esme’s tragic death can be found here. It is amazing and powerful.
I’ve learned important truths while watching the story of Esme’s lasting impact on our world unfold over the past year. I’ve witnessed how an unspeakable act of violence can become the fertile ground of new growth, if passionate and courageous gardeners like Tom and Lisa tend it and a flock of loving family, friends, and strangers lend a hand. Tom and Lisa are teaching us that anything is possible when we work together. They are showing us the power of choosing life over death. They are reshaping our world with goodness and love.
Today is the first anniversary of Esme’s death. Tomorrow Esme’s mom will stand in a courtroom and testify against the man who took the life of her beloved girl. The gray clouds hanging over my head today pale in comparison to the darkness that must be raging in the hearts of Esme’s family. Even so, I pray that the light of Esme’s life radiates around them, envelopes them, and caresses them with her love and her presence. Her light, like the sun, is undeniable and brilliant. Even though it is sometimes hard to see and feel, it is always here.
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