Read Online I Speak For This Child: True Stories of a Child Advocate by Gay Courter - Free Book Online Page B

here a guitar was donated to the center.”
    “I’d love to hear you play sometime.”
    “I need better picks. Would you ask my mom if she could bring me my old ones?”
    “Sure, I’d be happy to help.” I paused. “Last night I found my book of Robert Frost poems and was reading them. If you like, I could make copies of some of the poems and bring them next time.”
    “I’m not allowed to read anything unless they approve. You would have to show them to Mrs. Shaw.”
    “Sure, that’s fine.” I could hear someone coming down the corridor and thought our time might be up. “You have a birthday coming soon. Is there anything special you want?”
    “No, I already got my birthday gift from God.”
    “What’s that?”
    “You know, my guitar. But I would also like a dress to wear to church. One girl prayed for a dress and got a brand-new Liz Claiborne.”
    Alice Shaw appeared from behind the partition and indicated that Lydia should resume her exercise class, then led me to the parking lot door.
    “Lydia is interested in some poems. Is it all right if I bring them next time?”
    “There’s still the matter to settle with Mrs. Elliott, but if that works out satisfactorily, you may give her something to read so long as it is upbeat, and nothing negative.” We walked past a picture of the crucifixion. “Nothing about death.”
    As soon as I returned home I called Mrs. Ryan. I told her how well Lydia looked and asked about the guitar picks.
    “We threw those away with the guitar. Her sister broke it after she left. Anyway, why do they let you see her, but not me?”
    “Actually, they don’t want me to see her either, but I have a court order. How do you feel about their rules?”
    “They are strict, which is fine so long as she doesn’t get caught up in all the other nonsense.”
    “Like what?”
    “Didi told me on the phone that they are boycotting Betty Crocker products because ‘she’s a devil worshipper.’ I tried to explain that Betty Crocker is a corporation, not a person.”
    Catherine Ryan went on to tell me every weekend the girls were taken in a van to various churches several hours away so they could raise money for the Tabernacle Home. “They don’t socialize with the members of the congregations; in fact, they aren’t even allowed to speak to anyone unless they are spoken to. And there is something else that is bothering me …”
    “What’s that?”
    “At work someone brought me one of the Tabernacle Home’s mailings about a pro-life rally. Along with the fund-raising information was a paper headed, ‘My Testimony by Lydia.’ Using her real first name, she confessed about her abortion and what happened with Teddy. Even my friend knew who it was. I don’t like my daughter being exploited in that way.”
    “They never should have published that with her real name or without your permission.”
    “Could you do anything about that?”
    “I’m not sure, but I’ll check,” I said, happy to have a reason to collaborate with Mrs. Ryan for her daughter’s benefit.
    My next stop was to Sawgrass High School to copy Lydia’s school records. Since she had lived in the same county her whole life, the records continued from kindergarten. The summary for each year was accompanied by her school photo. I lined these up and stared as the five-year-old child’s chubby face became narrower and thinner and her wide, excited eyes seemed to lose their luster. In some of the pictures she wore glasses, in others not, and I wondered if she had a vision problem that had been neglected. For the first few years in primary school her statewide scores indicated she was three-to-five years above grade level and her report cards were excellent. Then, after around third grade, the A ‘s and B ‘s were replaced by D ‘s and F ‘s. In fact, she had failed two full years and had been retained once. Why? Last April, after leaving Valley View, Lydia had dropped out of school entirely. Something had gone