Dear God my prayers I offer you,
To help me understand,
Why children have to suffer so,
At the hands of an evil man.
A friend of mine whom you know well,
Missed school again today,
And when I stopped to check on her,
What I saw caused me dismay.
Becky Mae was not feeling well,
Her Father stammered to say,
You will not be able to visit her,
So please just go away!
With that he closed the door real quick,
And as I turned to walk away,
I glanced at an upstairs window,
To see the face of Becky Mae.
Tears were streaming down her face,
As she slowly waved her hand,
I sensed it was more than being sick,
But I didn't quite understand.
I hurried home to tell my Mom,
How I had been turned away,
By a Father who reeked of alcohol,
And of the tears from Becky Mae.
Mom told me about some rumors,
That had spread throughout our town,
How a girl was picked up wandering,
In a tattered sleeping gown.
It was said that her name was Becky,
And when the policeman drove her home,
The Father of the house explained,
That his daughter did often roam.
He said she suffered from an illness,
That was rare and known by few,
And the fact that Becky would not speak,
Seemed to confirm his story was true.
The more I thought of my little friend,
And a conversation we once had,
When Becky's question surprised me,
"Are all Fathers really bad"?
When I asked her exactly what she meant,
She just lowered her head and replied,
"It's not my Father I'm talking about,
"Cause he would never make me cry".
This story I have shared in many classrooms,
Encouraging children to come forward today,
If they are suffering from abuse in silence,
For I'm that little girl, called Becky Mae!
