?Saturday, January 19, 2008
Heidi blows a kiss to you, dearly, @3:12 PM!
a sad story,
“I’LL NEVER STEAL AGAIN - IF FATHER KILLS ME FOR IT.”
A friend of mine, seeking for objects of charity, got into the room of a tenement house. It was vacant. He saw a ladder pushed through the coiling. Thinking that perhaps some poor creature had crept up there, he climbed the ladder, drew himself up through the hole, and found himself under the rafters. There was no light but that which came through a bull’s-eye in the place of a tile. Soon he saw a heap of chips and shavings, and on top a boy about ten years old.
“Boy, what are you doing there?”
“Please don’t tell anybody--- please, sir.”
“What are you doing here?”
“Don’t tell anybody, sir; I’m hiding." "What are you hiding from?"
"Don’t tell anybody, if you please, sir.”
"Where’s your mother?”
“Mother is dead"
"Where’s your father?”
“Hush don’t tell him don‘t tell him! but look here!”
He turned himself on his face, and through the rags of his jacket and shirt, my friend saw the boy’s flesh was bruised, and the skin broken.
“Why, my boy, who beat you like that?”
“Father did, sir.”
"What did your father beat you like that for?"
"Father got drunk, sir, and beat me ‘cos I wouldn’t steal."
“Did you ever steal?”
“Yes, sir. I was a street thief once."
“And why don’t you steal anymore?”
“Please, sir, I went to the mission school, and they told me there of God, and of heaven, and of Jesus; and they taught me, ‘Thou shalt not steal; and I’ll never steal again, if father kills me for it. But, please, sir, don’t tell him."
"My boy, you must not stay here; you will die. Now, you wait patiently here for a little time; I’m going away to see a lady. We will get a better place for you than this.” Thank you, sir; but please, sir, would you like to hear me sing a little hymn?
Bruised, battered, forlorn, friendless, motherless, hiding away from an infuriated father, he had a little hymn to sing.
“Yes, I will hear you sing your little hymn.”
He raised himself on his elbow and then sang:
“Gentle Jesus, meek and mild,
Look upon a little child;
Suffer me to come to Thee.
Fain would I to Thee be brought,
Gracious Lord, forbid it not;
In the kingdom of thy grace
Give a little child a place.”
“That’s the little hymn, sir. Good-bye."
The gentleman went away, came back again in less than two hours, and climbed the ladder. There were the chips, and there was the little boy with one hand by his side, and the other tucked in his bosom, underneath the little ragged shirt dead.
omg laaaaa,
stupid father.
how can fathers be so cruel.
well, i guess i`m quite lucky afterall.
at least i don`t have a father who beats me up for not stealing-.-
if he ever does that, i`ll beat him up even harder.
violent fathers are never good fathers.
my daddy is a good father, i guess.
"for my own good", wasn`t an excuse, was it?
i don`t know?
i`ll just prove to him, i`m big enough to make my own decisions already.
i know whats wrong and right,
oh well,
i`m kind of greedy at times, and i don`t seem to know how lucky i am,
but, i do know i`m lucky cause i have him!
its just i always wished some things could be betterrrrr,
like, daddy and mummy.
which is obviously, unlikely-.-
omg.
heidi is crazy.
i`m contradicting myself over and over again.
i seriously don`t know what i actually want-.-
if 10 years from now is today,
i won`t be troubled by all these nonsense anymore.
and i won`t have to hide anything from anyone(:
that`s the bestttt laaaa,
i should be satisfied with what i have now,
wish no more heidi,
JUST FASTER GROW BIG :D
but then, being big has its own troubles tooooo,
hymph,
kay whatever.
just let everything carry on the way it is now,
things will get better in time to come! hopefully(:
yes yes yesssssssss,
hjwdgqfulgwelufg
just let things stay the way it is now,
and not worse than it.
rah,
life is TROUBLESOME.
kay, i`ll blog again tonight.
byebyebyebye:D
When life begins with you,
