Heart’s Quiet Thunder Remix 1

I was only four years old.

My brother was five.

Too young to understand death…

but old enough to know

Mama might not survive.

Daddy… Why did you teach us pain before we ever learned what

love was supposed to be?

I was four years old,

my brother by my side.

Watching Daddy beat our mother,

hearing Mama scream and cry.

He forced her head beneath the water,

held her

down so she couldn’t breathe.

My brother cried, "Daddy,

stop!"

I screamed, "Let my mama free!"

Did you see the tears running down our faces?

Did you hear God whisper,

"Son, stop this now"?

Because we were only babies,

Daddy…

Daddy, why’d you show us pain before you showed us love?

Why’d you fill our childhood memories with fear we couldn’t outrun?

You hurt Mama,

but you wounded us too.

And all these years later,

I’m still trying to understand you.

I remember Mama battered,

bruised and mostly scared.

Realizing the man she once loved

might really end her life right there.

She survived that night,

but survival has a price.

Some wounds keep bleeding silently

long after you save a

life.

But somewhere underneath the darkness was that little four-year-old girl… Still crying

for her mama,

still trying to understand the world.

And I told her: Baby,

we survived. Mama survived.

And we’re going to make sure our babies know another kind of

life.

Daddy, I

remember what you took… But look what I chose to give:

Love

to my children. Peace to my family.

And a reason to live.

This

family will learn tenderness.

This family will learn safety.

This family will learn

love.

I was four years old.

My brother was

five. We saw something no child should ever see.

But Daddy… Your pain doesn’t get the final word.

My

children will know love.