Sometimes Sharing Your Ordeal Blesses Other Victims

Sharing a heart-wrenching ordeal can become a matter of rejoicing when it witnesses victory over evil. Not just survival, but a of a flourishing outcome makes a profound statement . By looking closely at every obstacle, struggle, and eventual victory in their lives, people have the ability to discover hope. Such examinations of the past can be an aid to hope for a fruitful future. Most victims who share this kind of witness are in no way attempting to find fame or fortune. Nor are they seeking attention – their fifteen minutes in the spotlight. Contrarily, the dredging up of the past brings tears, pain, and sometimes even nightmares. Yet the experience begs to be shared as a beacon of hope to those experiencing similar ordeals.

"God gives each one of us sufficient grace ever to know his holy will, and to do it fully." -St. Ignatius of Loyola

After the Ordeal

I was an inexperienced fourteen-year-old teen when my life was forever changed in a horrific eye-opening ordeal. The cute boy down the street had a violent side and I was his naïve young victim. That I was not the only one affected goes without saying. Our family dynamic would never be the same. A new child was conceived.

The 1970’s were not like current times, with relaxed moral views and blasé reactions. Unwed motherhood was taboo and our family, Catholic and pro-life, hunkered down to await the new arrival. It was decided that the child, a boy, would be adopted by my parents and become a special sibling to us.

Life Moves On

After the new addition arrived we continued our small town American life. Returning to school was unnerving but college was in my future, necessitating the prerequisite grades. Aside from a few hushed whispers, our tiny community continued on without much ado.

My parents stipulated that dating begin promptly at sixteen. Remarkably I met a young man who won approval from my parents almost immediately. Something I now recognize as Divine Providence. We dated throughout high school and married during my senior year. My husband and I tried unsuccessfully to persuade my mother to allow us to adopt my brother (son) but the mother-child connection they had developed was too strong. My mother simply couldn’t give up the three-year-old son she now called her own.

College-bound after completion of high school, four years later found me as a married college graduate with a one-year-old son. Life had successfully and beautifully moved on. The scholarship I had been denied (because I was married), the teen ordeal and subsequent birth, as well as the youthful marriage, had not marred my future. If anything, these life circumstances had enhanced my ability to cope with responsibility and the unexpected. The graces flowing from our sacramental marriage allowed us to weather any storm and remain committed to loving each other.

Career Blessings

As unhindered as my education was, my career likewise flourished. The experience of my youth strengthened my drive to become a pro-life advocate. The BA acquired enhanced creative endeavors toward that goal. Tempered by the fire of the punitive ordeal, my organizational skills were finely honed as well. Life lessons had prepared me for numerous employment experiences including: Executive Director of pro-life groups, art teacher, and Field Representative for a pro-life U.S. Congressman.

Vocational Choice

In the end, my strong vocation for a traditional family won out. My preeminent career move was achieved. Stay at home mother became the most rewarding career choice for me. First, as the mother of three children attending Catholic schools and then as a home educator.

Now that my own children are grown and parents in their own right, I continue to relish home life by having grandchildren around me as much as possible. The life I have lived, the life I am living was not hindered in any way by my adolescent ordeal. In some ways the experiences I endured prepared me for who I want to be today.

There were myriad options along the way – but the choices were mine to make. In the end, an early pregnancy did not prevent the achievement of becoming who God called me to be. I became exactly who I was meant to be: A woman with many choices, armed with strength and faith and endless possibilities.

Don’t Believe the Abortion Hype

The telling of my experiences is in no way intended as a long list of self-congratulatory achievements. On the contrary, my hope is to inspire those who are thrust into similar circumstances. Never forget that Planned Parenthood and their ilk exist as money-making businesses whose success depends on taking the lives of helpless unborn babies by seducing their mothers by abortion promoting hype.

As with people who grow up in poverty, broken homes, and abuse, success is dependent on grace, a strong will, and faith in the human person who was created by an almighty God. He has endowed all people, from conception, with a right to life and an undeniable ability to achieve. To use an unexpected pregnancy as an excuse not to achieve is a morally bankrupt denial of the human will.

Abortion Hurts Society

In my pro-life work, I have been privileged to know many women who pulled themselves up out of their post-abortion desolation. Without fail, their regret is profound but their conviction for life is greater. Many of these women unselfishly relive the most painful experience in their lives in an effort to help others. They speak and write and volunteer in their vocation as pro-life advocates. Their pain is unspeakable and lingering guilt drives them to a profoundly selfless love of others. Although forgiven, a passionate resolve to bring something positive out of past flawed choices makes them insightful ambassadors for life.

Let us all do as much as we can to promote a Culture of Life. Even if the conception occurred under duress. After all, the child is simply another,living victim of this ordeal and has a God-given right to life. There can be no excuses to negate the fact that these children are as much of gift of God as the planned child. Furthermore, we no longer live in a time of scientific ignorance – even secular science confirms life begins at fertilization. Likewise, our faith in God confirms that all people are conceived as equals – each life is important, no matter its origin. Educate yourself, speak out, and pray to end abortion.

And if you are a sister survivor, please consider sharing your story - no matter the circumstances or which choice you made. The goal in doing God's work is to work in His vineyard. How many women and their babies might He save as a result of your witness?

“God doesn’t require us to succeed; he only requires that you try.” Saint Teresa of Calcutta

The Chastity, Mercy, and Love of Saint Maria Goretti

During my sixth grade year of Catholic school, Sister James Alma taught us about Saint Maria Goretti – the young patroness of chastity, rape victims, and merciful forgiveness. Although my knowledge of sexuality was immature, the affinity felt for this young saint of chastity touched a chord deep within my heart. To think that someone so young would choose death, rather than submit to the sinful lust of a robust neighbor boy was inordinately stirring. That she was able to love her attacker and offer forgiving mercy was incomprehensible. Yet, fate would put me in a similar experience a mere two years later.

It Happened to Me

My willowy adolescent body was no match for the advances of the virile young man down the street. His forceful advances were unsuccessfully fought off and six weeks later pregnancy was confirmed. To be honest, Saint Maria Goretti was far from my mind during the ensuing time of waiting. This year, however, is different. In anticipation of her feast day on July 6th, my mind turned to her as I prayed the prayers of the first day of her Novena this morning.

Unlike Saint Maria Goretti, forgiveness didn’t come easily. After denials from the perpetrator and his family, my family simply went into survival mode. A child was born, adopted by my parents, and we continued life in the same small town. Although open animosity was avoided, relationships remained strained. It took years of life, prayer, and coping before I could even think of facing the reality of what had happened to me.

Sharing Can Be Mercy

Eventually, my experience became a valued tool in counseling young girls and their families. As executive director of our local Right to Life group, my ‘ace in the hole’ story was privately shared with those who could benefit. My survival and successful graduation, marriage, college, and career gave tangible proof that life doesn’t end at rape conception and fully living the pro-life stance.

However, even more time was necessary before it was possible for me to publicly share my story. Finally, in 2012, at the age of fifty-four, something that had happened forty years prior was put into printed word. It was cathartic yet nerve-wracking at the same time. Seeing the most impactful experience in my life put in print shattered the carefully crafted wall I had built. Nightmares returned and the paper thin wall of peace crumbled. Yet I moved forward, sharing and finding a comforting balm by the kind words received in response to my story.

While I have mostly recovered from the unexpected aftershock of sharing such a personal aspect of my private life, a deep dark place will remain with me. There is no hostility toward the others in this experience, only a calm ability to forgive, pray, and move on. My faith and family sustain me. It is my prayer that the others who experienced such a horrific betrayal are moved by mercy and love to do the same.

Saint Maria Goretti – Chastity and Mercy

What a strength of faith and will this young girl possessed! Not only had her father died when Maria was nine, she was in charge of her siblings as her mother worked in the fields to provide sustenance for her family. In addition to caring for her own family, Maria was tasked with cooking and cleaning for a neighbor and his son.

This is how she was placed in the path of her attacker, Alessandro Serenelli who developed an impure attraction to Maria. After months of crude insults and sexual advances, which Maria successfully fought, Alessandro attempted rape. In her successful struggle to prevent violation, Maria was stabbed and died the following day. The numerous brutal stab wounds became infected. Maria’s last words reflected her purity of heart and soul, “I forgive Alessandro Serenelli…and I want him with me in Heaven forever”.

The First Fruit of Merciful Forgiveness

Subsequently, Alessandro was imprisoned for his crimes against Maria. Again, her heart of mercy was revealed. After he had served six years in prison, Maria appeared to Alessandro in his cell. Her vision was surrounded by lilies, the symbol of purity, and she spoke words of forgiveness. Maria’s act of mercy and love spurred contrition in Alessandro, allowing grace to enter his heart. After serving his sentence Alessandro lived a life of holiness. Maria’s mother also granted her daughter’s attacker pardon and made the merciful gesture of attending Christmas Mass with him. There he publicly confessed his sin and asked pardon.

Having found mercy, Alessandro eventually became a Franciscan lay brother. Before he died, Alessandro penned an open letter to the world. In it, he shared his admiration of Saint Maria Goretti.

"Little Maria was really my light, my protectress; with her help, I behaved well during the 27 years of prison and tried to live honestly when I was again accepted among the members of society. The Brothers of St. Francis, Capuchins from Marche, welcomed me with angelic charity into their monastery as a brother, not as a servant.”

In what appears to be a direct response to Maria’s wishes, he added, “…now I am serenely waiting to witness the vision of God, to hug my loved ones again, and to be next to my Guardian Angel and her dear mother, Assunta.”

Personification of Chastity, Mercy, and Love

We are all called to chastity, according to our station in life. Love enters in when we show, by our example, that we are followers of Christ. Saint Maria Goretti exemplifies all that Jesus asks of us – even to the point of loving and praying for our enemies. In her mercy and love, she spiritually embraced her attacker with forgiveness – even to the point of wishing him to spend Eternity with her in Heaven. That he shared the same wish in his final letter, shows that he accepted and understood the mercy extended to him by his little victim.

Novena of Saint Maria Goretti

Prayers for the First Day

O St. Maria Goretti, beautiful model of purity, you defended your virginity unto your death. Even at the age of 11, you held dear to your heart what is dear to our Lord: your purity.

Pray for me that I may do the same, especially when I am tempted.

Please pray that God will give me the strength to avoid sin and say yes to a life which will lead to eternity in Heaven with you and our Lord.
Please pray also for (mention your intentions here).

Amen.

As we traverse the murky waters of a society entrenched in sins of the flesh, Saint Maria Goretti is a beacon of hope in the ability of mankind to live a life of chastity. In this Year of Mercy, let us look to her as an extraordinary example of God’s mercy and love. By the grace of God, may we sincerely strive to emulate her saintly life:

“Those who were acquainted with little Maria said on the day of her funeral: “A saint has died!” The devotion to her has continued to spread on every continent, giving rise to admiration and a thirst for God everywhere. In Maria Goretti shines out the radical choice of the Gospel, unhindered, indeed strengthened by the inevitable sacrifice that faithful adherence to Christ demands.”

Pope St. John Paul II, - Message for the Centenary of the Death St. Maria Goretti, 5

When 'I'm Pro-life Except' Really Happens…

A B O R T I O N:

The rationalizations are many…

“Why have a baby born into a family who does not want ‘it’?”

“What about school/career?”

“Should we really force a woman to bear a child against her will?”

“What if the baby is deformed or not mentally ‘normal’?”

“Maybe the woman just can’t afford a child right now!”

“It’s not my place to make such an intimate decision for someone else.”

“I’m personally opposed to abortion, but…”

I’ve heard them all. As someone who was in high school when the infamous Roe vs. Wade and Doe vs. Bolton decisions were being discussed and then handed down, I have been transfixed by the topic for years.  The research that was required  for my first Social Studies debate on the topic, caught fire in my heart and soul and has been a burning flame of conviction ever since.  An otherwise timid public speaker, I could rattle off facts and arguments with fluid ease when pro-life issues were involved. Some of the rationalizations were very simple to dispute with Developmental Charts and Biological Facts. Others would tweak at the heart and seem difficult to counter – but were they?

“What about the rape/incest exception?”

Aha! Yep, that one makes folks a bit more squeamish. Would you really expect a woman to carry her attacker’s child? Well, in a word, ‘yes’! After all, why punish a child for his father’s crime? Wouldn’t that just create another victim? That child has committed no crime, has been convicted by no jury, and is given a death sentence through no fault of his own. But, but, but…

“Wouldn’t the woman’s life come to a screeching halt,
with no chance of a future?”

In a nutshell, no! What makes me so sure about my answer? Well, my ‘ace in the hole’ response comes from a very personal story…

Sometime in the 70’s I found myself the recipient of unwanted advances by a neighborhood boy – I was barely 14 years old. Weeks later I would reluctantly tell my mother the facts of that encounter and she would surmise that my persistent bout of nausea wasn’t the flu after all. She would fall to the floor with the shock of it all and I would be forced to let go of the denial that had kept me halfway sane. The ensuing months were a blur and yet time stood still. My early high school career came to a screeching halt and was substituted with a ‘homebound’ teacher and an algebra tutor. Time, however, marched on and adjustments were made. This wasn’t an era of ‘baby mommas’ and ‘baby daddies’, this was a more sheltered time and after a while we began to attend Mass in a neighboring town.

Then early summer hit and with it ‘the time’. I remember the kind-faced nurse with the gold watch who held my hand – no visitors in the labor/delivery area were allowed then. She kept me somewhat calm by talking about mundane things – like my nice tan. The hours ticked by and the pain increased. There was a recurring little stream of tears at the corner of my eyes but I never called out. I just looked at that gold watch on the nurse’s arm.

Then there he was – a blue eyed bundle of around 7 pounds. They laid him in my lap and I timidly poked at him – counted the fingers and toes, because that’s what I’d heard you did, and then quickly bundled him up again. I felt more fear than joy – more spent than at peace. I don’t remember much more of the hospital stay but I do remember the early days of being back at home. My jeans fit again quickly and I hesitantly went outside for a walk on the sidewalk in front of our house. I looked ‘normal’ again but couldn’t quite get the idea of what had happened to make sense in my 14-year-old brain. The sun was still shining but somehow it didn’t sink its warmth into my skin.

Inside the house were my sisters and that little wooden cradle with ‘him’ in it. My parents had stepped up in support of us and decided to adopt the child and raise him as my brother. We were a family of firm Catholic faith and there could be no other option. They would add this child of mine to their brood even though my mother was 4 months pregnant at the time of his birth. He would soon have a little brother! The adoption papers were drawn up and there was no fuss or disagreement – after all I was still a minor. This plan was for the best – for all of us. Sacrifices were made in families every day – for the good of all – especially the smallest, weakest members. This was our Catholic faith in action!

Another Baby In the Family

The blue-eyed angel grew a full head of blonde hair and five months later his dark-eyed, black-haired ‘twin’ would become his sidekick. He always knew that I was ‘special’ and that he was adopted, even before he knew what that meant, because my parents wanted him to know the truth from the beginning.  ‘The Boys’, as we called them, would grow up together as brothers with a bond that grew stronger and matured with adulthood. Our little family of 7 lived an idyllic life in our small town and acceptance was regained from most. The whispers would always be there but we all grew accustomed to them and we circled the wagons around our family and our Catholic faith.

Back to 'Normal'

I returned to high school and met a young man during the summer of my sixteenth year. He was someone my mother trusted and the first one I dated. We became quite the pair and were soon ‘going’ steady. Another reminder of that time would come when we parked in a quiet meadow and I told him my story. He had heard the murmurs but I needed to tell him myself – that it wasn’t quite the way it was portrayed in some circles. To my surprise and joy he accepted my tale with a loving calm! He was not in tune with the naysayers, his heart was his own – and mine!

We married the Thanksgiving weekend of my senior year, with the blessing of our parish priest. Our high school courtship had remained a chaste one – by our mutual agreement. After our wedding we approached my parents and asked if we could adopt the little one – now three years old – ourselves. My mother’s answer was an unequivocal ‘NO’!  She explained that he was now her baby and she simply could not give him up. We did, however, have ‘The Boys’ over quite a bit. They were our ‘practice kids’ in those early years.

That fall, after having graduated from high school, I began my college life. Although my scholarships were rescinded when I married, I gained 24 credit hours by taking the CLEP test. I remained on track to graduate on time. In what seemed like no time at all I found myself in my senior year of college – and I was also pregnant with our first child! Our son was born before I walked the stage to receive my diploma.

Life Marches On

Since that time many things have happened. After graduation with a BA in Art my various jobs have included Art Teacher, Office Manager and Catholic Book Store Manager as well as a Field Representative for a pro-life US Congressman. In the pro-life realm I have been an Executive Director of Right to Life of Owensboro (twice), served as Newsletter Editor and Board Member of several pro-life groups,. My life has been full and fulfilling. I tell you these things, not to brag about my credentials, but to enforce the point that your life is never over – no matter what cards you are dealt.

During our 36 years of marriage, my husband and I have had three children and married off two of them. We have welcomed 5 grandchildren – gifts from their happy marriages. The two children born to my ‘special brother’ and his wife, round out our total of seven grandchildren. They are all 7 years old and younger. I am Godmother to all seven of these angels and we are quite the tight-knit bunch. Life prevailed and has come full circle. Contrary to being ‘ruined’, I can honestly say that my 54 years on this earth have truly been blessed!

The Rest of the Story

When he was sixteen years old, I went for a drive with my ‘special’ brother. As we sat in an empty church parking lot, I filled him in on the grim details of his origin. I had, of course, gotten ‘our’ mother’s blessing. He had a right to know but it needed to be the right time for him. We talked and exchanged thoughts of Our Story. Our relationship had remained strong throughout the years and that would never change. We just needed to ebb and flow in our own time.

+   +  +

NOTE: This story and the addendum below were first shared in 2012

Fast-forward to a few days ago we discussed my idea of publicly telling Our Story . Of course the folks in our hometown know some version or another of the story and a few people currently in our lives know the details as well. I’ve also shared Our Story with frightened, pregnant girls and their mothers. I’ve shared it with intimate friends and fellow pro-life warriors. But it’s not mine alone to publicly tell. However, we are comfortable with each other and I knew he would honestly tell me how he felt. His answer was as straightforward as he, himself, is. He said, ‘’It’s Our Story and it’s nothing to be ashamed of. Tell it like it is.’’

~

We are quite the pair – praise God!