Growing up as a little child, how many of us who were abused felt this way? No one to talk to. No one would believe us anyway. We were silent victims. I wished someone was there for me as a child. Fear was always there for us. We were afraid to show tears. Often staying silent. Now it is up to us to speak up and help the children who are now in the same place we were.764945231pizapw1435378204


Forgiveness: Do you really have to forgive?  It’s an individual choice

Tuesday of this week I was dropping my daughter and her family off at the “Go Station.” On the way back I had to pass by the cemetery where my mother is buried at her mother and father’s grave site. I haven’t been there for a long time and wasn’t planning on making a stop. As I was approaching the cemetery, I heard a voice inside me saying “Go in.” I thought no, I don’t want to go in, and was going to keep going.  Again, I heard “Go in.”  With a deep sigh, I thought “fine” and drove into the cemetery.  I couldn’t find the plot the first time, and thought “oh well” and was going to drive out and go home. Well that wasn’t happening.  Again I heard a voice say, “turn around” I turned my car around and drove down the road, and there was the plot.  I sat in my car for a while, thinking, and looking at the headstone on my Grandma’s grave.  I thought, “well I’ll go talk to my grandma, she always makes me feel good.”  
My grandma loved me and I love her so much and still miss her to this day. She has been gone now about 40 years.  She was the one who always hugged me, would tell me she loved me.  Really cared. How I wished I heard those words from my mother.
I started clearing away the weeds which weren’t too bad, and talking to my grandma, telling her how much I missed her and would be back to clean the angel on her headstone.  I went to my mother’s marker cleared away some of the dirt that hid the cross and said to her, “if only you knew what dad and your cousin did to me.  Why couldn’t you ever tell me you loved me? Why did you only yell, hit, curse at me. I didn’t do anything bad to you but you chose not to show your good feelings to me.”  I started to cry, and at that moment forgave my mother for all the things she did to me and didn’t do for me.  It even shocked me to say out loud the words, “Mom I forgive you.”  I had never wanted to forgive her.  I was able to move forward in my healing journey, became a survivor/thriver, and lived my life my way with the support of my husband and family.  Forgiving was never in the equation.
When I returned to the car, I sat and thought, “Our Creator wanted me to come in here, his voice was the voice I heard.  It may sound crazy, but I truly believe this to be the case.  I had no desire to go into the cemetery that day, but our Creator had other plans for me.  I never felt any incredible joy or feel a weight lifted, by forgiving her, but in a sense I feel that by forgiving my heart feels compassion for her. Something I never felt before.  
God does work in ways we may not understand at times.  Now whether I forgive my dad and mother’s cousin, I don’t know. If it is to be then it will happen otherwise, I can move forward, help others by writing my blog posts, writing my prose, hoping someone will feel better and understand themselves a little ore by what I write and that they can move forward and can heal from abuse.  
Mary Graziano 
copyrighted 201511755892_10155898845950232_3108294675770196548_n (1)



So many nights. I cry alone.
In silence. So no-one can hear.
Fear I feel. So much hurt inside.
My pillow. Stained.
From so many tears.
You shoved and pushed me
hard that day.
I fell down. Laughing. You ran away.
Help? It never came. No one cared!!
With my knee deeply gashed. Bleeding.
I ran home. Oh what a day!!!
Alone I sit. Too shy. Too scared.
At school I have no friends.
You sneer! You judge!
You curse at me.
When does the
Bullying end!!!
Each day I huddle by myself.
Many stare. But just walk by.
You came along.
Destroyed my self-esteem.
Silently. I sit. I cry.
Why do you choose to target me.
I’m someone you don’t even know.
Why are you a bully.
What made you become this way?
My lips are silent
Can’t fight back!!
I’m broken now. Can’t be fixed.
You destroyed me for your own fun.
I want to die! Don’t want to live.
Why? I have nowhere left to run.

Don’t you see all the harm inflicted?
To a stranger. It just doesn’t fit.
I am real. I breathe. I can’t take it.
I’m done!!
Me. I cease to exist!!!

Mary Graziano
Copyrighted 2015
Revised August 25, 2015

What is a bully? One definition of a bully is a conscious, willful, deliberate, hostile and repeated behavior by one or more people, which is intended to harm others

When someone is bullied, they feel that they are nothing. The bully has taken everything away from the victim.
Children are often bullied at school. Someone may be targeted who is a loner and who the bully knows won’t say anything and the intended victim will stay silent. So they target that person, follow them verbally abuse them, then may physically attack them. The victim is scared into not saying anything because they know that the bully will hurt them even more. They begin to isolate themselves from any friends they do have, go home, stay in their rooms, and to their family, all seems well. Then, depression takes hold of them, they have nowhere to go, no one to talk to, because they are afraid. So afraid that many will end their own lives. And, the bully often gets away with it.
Mary E Graziano©

School has and will start soon. And so will bullying!!! Please speak to your child about bullying others, and about being bullied. Those being bullied need to start speaking up. More needs to be done in schools to protect those being bullied. Not enough is being done!!! Please be a voice and help those being bullied. Don’t be one of those who stand by and laugh.




Sadness envelopes Madi’s
dark brown eyes.
Her gaze. Filled with emptiness.
Lips. Pursed together.
Trying to hold back tears.
Sorrow fills her heavy heart.
Madi represents children abused.
Shackled to a life that strips their soul.
This. The destiny they face each day.
Her heart breaks. Knowing the hurt
each child endures.
Innocent children. So all alone.
Fear. So intense. Permeates
throughout their body. Intimidated.
Tremulous voices. Whispers.
No-one hears.
Darkness stirs dreams. So haunting.
Alone. Facing the shadows of night.
Manipulation. Control.
The game of the abuser.
His/her words etched deep.
Takes over a child’s thoughts.
Brainwashing them.
Believing. What they say is truth.
Leaving them numb. Dead inside.
Madi’s pleading eyes.
Speak more than words ever could.
“Help fight for rights of all children.
Who suffer the atrocities from abuse.
Don’t let the monstrous abuser
Take control over an innocent child!!”
Feel their pain. Madi’s pain.
Help keep children safe.
So much heartache.
Through the eyes of a child.
Madi’s eyes.

Prose by Mary Graziano©2015
Revised July 7, 2015

Beautiful watercolour painting/title
“Madi’s Eyes” by my wonderful
Michal Madison
©2014 www.MichalMadisonoArt.com11193252_695986783857705_1451123645745758095_n