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Name: Samantha Louise
Home: Vancouver, Canada
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Saturday, December 9, 2006
13th Birthday Party

Upon returning from a 13-year old girls birthday party, I locked myself in my bedroom and cried for her. I have been lying on my bed for quite some time now, crying out to God for this young girl and her future. My heart is breaking and I can feel the tears that God is crying for her, I can feel God's heart for her. I want to break her free from her life, I want to run up to her, grab her and help her escape. There is nothing I can do but love her and pray for her and believe for her.

Birthday parties are supposed to be about fun, laughter, happiness, freedome, an opportunity for a young girl to be herself. But the atmosphere of the room was one full of sadness, heaviness, loneliness, hopelessness.

I love this kid and I would die for this kid and I just pray that she'll break free.

She is full of bondage. Full of brokeness, and it is only the blood of Jesus that can see these chains broken off.

The mother. The only family member in her life. She is beautiful, she has sadness her in life. She opens up to me and tells me how she has been a cocaine addict and an alcoholic for the first 11 years of this daughters life. This young mother is doing all she can to make up for her daughters first 11 years in the world, but she herself needs some love and care. A grown adult on the outside, but a small scared child on the inside. Showing me her bedroom it hit me that this mother never grew up. Her room is blue. Blue with dolphins. A dolphin pillow, dolphin doona, dolphin posters, dolphin toys, dolphin photo frames, DOLPHINS DOLPHINS DOLPHINS. Wherever you look- there are dolphins. This room honouring dolphins resembled a 10 year old girls room. It is the heart cry of this mother. She wants to be like a dolphin, be free like a dolphin, have no worries like a dolphin. Her years of addiction have broken her spirit.

The party. We sat on a couch. The girl, her mother, the girls friend, and two other girls who were forced to come to the party by their own mother, and ofcourse me. Nobody else showed up. We sat in silence as the mother complains about how much of a nusiance it is to throw a 13-year old party. She complains that it was alot of effort to organise the food.

The food. One bowl of chips. A plate of party pies. A bottle of 1.25 litre soft drink. And coloured popcorn sitting in a playschool lunch box. It seems that the decorations were better prepared than the food.

The decorations. A handful of baloons around the room, a couple of streamers dangling from the window. And a party hat for the girl.

The girl. She sits there tears welling in her eyes. Long brown hair hiding her face, hiding her pain, hiding what she feels. Dreams of a 13-year-old party were stolen from her.

I look at her and hold her gaze and begin to tell her that she is a champion. That I love her. That she is worth it. That she is made for greatness. That she is here for a reason and a purpose. That her teenage years will be significant and that God will use her in mighty ways.

Everybody stares at me as I speak. But I don't care. This 13-year-old needs to hear it.

Now I'm here, crying for this girl, crying for her soul. Crying out to God for her.

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posted by Samantha Louise 3:59 PM  
  • At December 11, 2006 at 5:30:00 PM GMT+11, Anonymous Bob said…

    All my memories of birthday parties were nothing short of magical. I am so grateful to my parents for the effort they put in, and to God for my parents! I would say there are lots of kids out there who need someone outside of their family to step in occasionally and be part of that family for them, whether it be helping organising a party, attending a graduation ceremony, or taking them shopping. Go Louise!

    But whenever possible do it with the parents - you don't want to try to supplant them.


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