MEET CATHERINE
When asked about childhood, many people recall memories of bedtime stories, making cookies at Christmas and playing ball in the yard with dad.  These are not my memories. 

When I was 6 months old, my dad broke my arm.  I was crying too loud.

When I went to my 1st day of grade school, I had a cast and crutches.  the night before, I didn’t want to take a bath, so my dad threw me against the wall and broke both of my legs.  When he took me to school that first day, he told me not to tell anyone or they would kick me out of school for being a bad girl.

In 5th grade, I had to skip my class pictures because I was missing a huge patch of hair/skin from my scalp. My dad had dragged me up a flight of stairs because I forgot to turn off the TV.  And my front teeth were broken off.  He had slammed my face into the dinner table...because I had spoken without asking to speak.

That same year, my dad thought I had told someone about our family life.  He hit me in the head with a snow shovel.  I had to sit through dinner holding a towel on my head, before going to get 25 stitches.

Another time, he thought I told, he lifted my up and put my feet into the hot coals of the BBQ and told me he would kill me if I talked again.  I couldn’t walk for a week and it took months for the burns to heal.

One day, I didn’t drive the lawn mower correctly.  He picked up a baseball bat and hit me across my face and  back.  My jaw was broken, my teeth were cracked and my back severely injured. 

My junior and senior year in HS I ran away and lived in the streets…it was safer.

All this time, my little brother Rusty would be watching.  Ready at any moment to leap in and help me.  And I mean, leap.   He would jump on my dad’s back like a monkey and hit him on the head and kick, yelling.  “Leave my sister alone.”  My dad adored Rusty so he would take it and be distracted by it.  Enough for me to get away and hide until my dad lost interest or passed out on the couch. 

After that, in the darkness of my bedroom, Rusty would creep in and we’d hide together in the closet.  He would say, "Look at the light…like a candle…can you see it? " And we would stare for hours until we saw the light.  Then we would do what we called “Flip, flops,”  turning over the day to find one good thing. 

When I was 20, Rusty had had enough and committed suicide. 

My partner was gone. 

I had no hope. 

I attended Catholic grade school, but was told that only the priests and nuns read the Bible.  We were to attend church and they would tell us what to know.  I had no idea that Jesus was in the Bible.

I had no hope.

Not long after Rusty, my dad also committed suicide.

I thought if this huge, powerful person couldn’t make it, there was no chance for me….weak, damaged and not good enough.  By then I had two little babies and thought they were better off without me. 

I had no hope.

I laid on the couch one night, deciding how to kill myself and put everyone out of their misery.  As I stared through the window, feeling nothing, an incredible warmth came over me.  The window seemed to glow.  I saw something, unclear and fuzzy, but looked like the figure of a man.  I heard very clearly, words that I will never forget…”You can be free, if you follow Me.  I have been waiting for you to look up so you could see Me smiling.  I am the light you saw in the closet.  I am here.  Be still my child and know that I love you.”

I was transfixed for hours not sure what I had seen.  But sure that my life had changed forever.  I had hope, I was free.  I would follow Jesus.

I felt peace for the first time in my life.   I had much healing to do in the years to come.  But I had great hope.  And God put the people in my path whom he chose to help me. 

Now,

I completed graduale school and have a very rich life.
I have a wonderful family and great loving friends.

And

I feel great hope and desire to be used by God.

Catherine

Daughter of grace