The Power Is In Your Hands…

Sitting,  well actually more of a leaning over the edge of the garage, in the shade of the neighboring large Oak  tree while painting the trim, I thought of my daughter’s troubles a couple years earlier.  I recalled the speech I gave on her behalf and hoped those words played a part in the charges being dropped.   Allow me to tell you what happened in that courtroom… “Ladies and gentlemen of the jury,” was how my speech began…  “Before y’all come to a conclusion on what this girl has done I ask you to consider this”:

In the mood, but for how long and at what price?
In the mood, but for how long and at what price?

“The person sitting at that table,” I said while pointing, “has been determined to be a social outcast, a member of the world’s oldest profession.  Look at her, her eyes reflect the nightlife and are puffy with sorrowful and sorry, sadness. Her face is red and swollen with pain.  The disgrace she has brought on herself would be more than most could bear, and yet, she was once a fine and true woman. Without getting into the past I would like to say that we all played a part in what happened to this girl; I mean she is barely twenty-five.   We, some knowingly but most unknowingly, introduced her to the underside of life. She drinks, but you know who the teacher was, it was you and I; she smokes and we showed her how.  Do you really think it’s right, to condemn her now? I knew her mother and her mom’s tragic story was told to me at the Lifeway Center for unwed mother’s years

Dear Mom...
Dear Mom…

ago. Why, her mother was a lady of the evening also.  The apple didn’t fall far from the tree. I don’t know if her mom ever quit that profession, but this girl was raised in a home with much love and understanding.  I know because I am the one who raised her. While making a decision I ask you to remember that for every fallen woman there’s a hundred, no, a thousand fallen men. I ask you, members of the jury, before delivering the verdict on her faults just remember who could be to blame, and he may even be your son.  

This girl is my daughter and so my testimony stands.  You have control over what happens to her so won’t you please drop all charges, thank you. ”  

Well those were my thoughts as I busily passed the time until her arrival later this afternoon.  This is the first time to see her since her day in court.  She moved to a northern county and had been married since the trial ;and even had a child.  She applies herself as secretary (I guess a secretary is now called, administrative assistant.) but seems both happy and satisfied, hallelujah and welcome home!

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