A morning of voices from the kitchen overheard by an eight-year-old:
The voice of mother saying, “Sit here at the table while I pour you a cup of coffee.”
The voice of a woman sobbing, “I don’t know what to do.”
The voice of mother saying, “Well, first let’s get you settled down.”
The sobbing continued uncontrolled, but the eight-year-old couldn’t understand.
Couldn’t understand why the woman was so upset.
Couldn’t understand why mother would be helping this woman.
The eight-year-old didn’t know what abortion meant.
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An afternoon of voices from the kitchen overheard by a nine-year-old:
The voice of mother saying, “Sit here at the table while I pour you a cup of coffee.”
The voice of a neighbor crying, “I don’t know what to do.”
The voice of mother saying, “Well, first let’s get you settled down.”
The crying continued uncontrolled, but the nine-year-old couldn’t understand.
Couldn’t understand why the woman was so upset.
Couldn’t understand why mother would be helping this neighbor.
The nine-year-old didn’t know some men beat their wives.
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A night of voices from the kitchen overheard by a ten-year-old:
The voice of father saying, “Sit here at the table while I pour you a cup of coffee.”
The voice of a man wailing, “I don’t know what to do.”
The voice of father saying, “Well, first let’s get you settled down.”
The wailing continued uncontrolled, but the ten-year-old couldn’t understand.
Couldn’t understand why the man was so upset.
Couldn’t understand why father would be helping this person.
The ten-year-old didn’t know wives throw drunken husbands out of the house.
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Voices from the past recalled remembered, understood.
Karen McClelland October 11, 2002
Revised July 17, 2010
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