from ErikMagnusLehnsher - Wednesday, March 16, 2005
accessed 1164 times
My young life in The Fam was less marked by trauma
than boredom both consistent and intense.
I didn't mind handyman and gardening
But what sucked was begging for dollars and cents.
I was a young teenager and I expected
a tomorrow not unlike any other.
I checked the schedule before bed
But with so many changes why bother.
I planned on gardening the next day
as I tucked my tired body into bed.
Whilst I dreamt, visions of lawnmowers
and shiny clippers danced in my head.
Looking back I found gardening rather boring
and far from a mind-challenging task.
But when presented with other ministries,
for the job of gardening I always asked.
Reveille had just sounded, I was headed
out towards the bustling breakfast line.
When I overheard a shepherd say:
"Just take Erik...I'm sure he won't mind."
My head quickly spun on a pivot
toward the source of this disturbing news.
The shepherd was talking with Auntie Shiner.
I immediately started feeling the blues.
I quickly changed into my witnessing clothes.
We'd have personal devotions on the bus into town.
But we didn't want to risk our security
so on the bus I couldn't talk or make a sound.
Auntie Shiner somehow didn't notice that
her loud American accent made everyone look.
I tried to pretend I wasn't with her...
kept my nose buried in my Memory Book.
I respectfully queried about breakfast:
"My growing body needs sustentation."
She bought me a small banana-nut muffin
with a look of annoyed irritation.
She carried the 14 videos and some lit.
I hauled 80 tapes switching between shoulders.
At first it didn't seem too heavy.
After an hour it was like lugging two boulders.
We would start the day with some follow-up.
There was a new Kiddie Viddie to sell.
Was it yesterday's lentils or split pea soup
that was causing me tummy not to feel so well?
Our first stop of the day was an appointment.
We signed in at some kindergarten or daycare.
All I know is it lasted at least an hour and
I daydreamed about being anywhere but there.
I valiantly fought it off for nearly 30 minutes
reluctant to be the Devil's tool.
But I silently had to let one rip that constituted
punishment both unusual and cruel.
Five seconds later Auntie and the "sheepy" director
abruptly paused in perfect synchronization.
They both turned their heads towards me
with fierce looks of consternation.
I avoided any type of eye contact.
I knew a lecture I later would hear.
But I'd be lying if I didn't admit
that inside I grinned from ear to ear.
Needless to say, we were promptly escorted out
sans the lucrative sale we had anticipated.
So we packed up our stuff and started walking
while my manners Auntie briefly berated.
My shoes were worn, my socks were holey.
Eventually blisters formed on my toes.
I silently wondered if Hell is like this.
The streets continued on in blurry rows.
Lunch wasn't ample or especially tasty
and far too late in the day for my liking.
I felt as if up Mt Everest
all day I'd been painstakingly hiking.
The day sleepily droned on and eventually
some of our impressive tools we hawked.
I honestly didn't give a damn except that
now my bag weighed less...hurt less when I walked.
Now about those times I can chuckle
though then I felt bored frustration.
I had much time to think and to ponder...
Promised myself tapenessing wound NOT be MY occupation.
I know this story is lame when compared
to other kids actually abused in many ways.
I'm just thankful that I have a life and future now.
I bristle to think of those dark, lonely days.