I mentioned last post about how the boys at the boys’ home less than a year ago used to draw really gory, dark pictures of men with axes and blood and death and stuff, and how they now draw pictures of trees and hearts and nice people. Here are some pics from Tony’s cell. Hopefully my kids will stay outside playing while I post this. It’s 8:30 pm and there is still a little bit of light in the sky. It was hot today again; we’ve over 90 every day now.
BEFORE: note men with evil faces and axes dripping blood on top and left
nice person and heart
more hearts, by Victor
Victor is 16 years old. Here he is:
This was taken this week when Tony went to visit Victor in the pychiatric ward of the mental hospital downtown. He is not at the boys home at the moment, he’s not doing well. It seems that when Victor’s mom was pregnant with him she did drugs and alcohol, then when he was born they put the stuff in his bottle. Can you imagine doing that to your baby? I can’t. Poor Victor is pretty messed up. The other day Tony got upset with our own kids, they were complaining about something. Complain, complain, complain. He reminded them of Victor. Victor would LOVE to have a family, parents who love him and take care of him, who give him everything, love, attention, Jesus, he would love to have all they have. He would love to be able to change his life. But he can’t. He’s in a mental hospital right now. He saw his Dad kill his mom, then saw his Dad in a casket after being stuck 17 times with a knife in prison. He wants so badly to change and be better and be good and happy, but he can’t. And then there are other people who have everything and they are not happy. They don’t appreciate it and complain. Hey, me included. I need to hear stories like Victor’s, too. How many times do I complain, for nothing?
At least Victor is now drawing pictures of hearts, instead of bad men with bloody axes.