Precious in His Sight

By Octavia Praetorius

This is a story about Mia, a six year-old little girl caught in the middle of her parent’s divorce. She is thrown into distress when her mother brings her abusive boyfriend in to live with them, but overcomes the horror of child abuse through her faith in Jesus. Her friend, Mark, also comes from an abusive home. Together, they see each other through with their friendship. Skip is the passionate caseworker who takes on the mission of protector of children, endeavoring to restore families. It’s through his eyes we get a better understanding and the grander scope of the epidemic of child abuse, which reports at least 4- 5 children a day die from.

“He will rescue the poor when they cry out to Him, He will help the oppressed, who have no one to defend them. He feels pity for the weak and the needy, and He will rescue them. He will redeem them from oppression and violence, for their lives are precious to Him.”

Bible Verse Psalm 72:12-14 NLT

• Language: English
• Publisher: WestBow Press
• Release date: Sep 22, 2020
• ISBN: 9781973694120

Octavia Praetorius

Echoing through the halls of time, passing centuries gone by, Jesus’ words reach us today, reminding us how He Himself is grieved, and despises harm to children. As a follower of our Saviour, Lord and Leader Jesus Christ, Octavia Praetorius answers the call to be a voice for those who have no voice by writing this book in hopes to bring awareness of child abuse. Having a love for children, she has worked VBS, Sunday school, and Preschool in Las Vegas, Nevada.

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Copyright © 2020 Octavia Praetorius.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means,

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except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue

in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

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Scripture taken from the New King James Version®. Copyright © 1982

by Thomas Nelson. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

Scripture quotations marked (NLT) are taken from the Holy Bible, New Living Translation,

copyright © 1996, 2004, 2007 by Tyndale House Foundation. Used by permission of

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Scripture quotations taken from The Holy Bible, New International Version® NIV®

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by permission. All rights reserved worldwide.

ISBN: 978-1-9736-9410-6 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-9736-9411-3 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-9736-9412-0 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2020910737

WestBow Press rev. date: 9/10/2020

Contents

Dedication

Acknowledgments

Chapter 1   Suffer The Little Children

Chapter 2   Wait For Me

Chapter 3   A Bouquet Of Lilacs

Chapter 4   The Least Of These

Chapter 5   Secrets

Chapter 6   Take Me To Your Heart

Chapter 7   I Can See It In Their Eyes

Chapter 8   Kuschelteddy

Chapter 9   Moonlight Sonata

Chapter 10   Kangas In The Outback

Chapter 11   I’ll Be There

Chapter 12   A Tree Is Known By Its Fruit

Chapter 13   A Face In The Window

Chapter 14   Hunter’s Moon

Chapter 15   I Hurt

Chapter 16   We Alone

Chapter 17   There’s Help

Chapter 18   Christmas Day

Chapter 19   Saying Goodbye To A Friend

Chapter 20   In The Bleak Midwinter

Chapter 21   Fly To Jesus

Chapter 22   I’m Not Pretty

Chapter 23   Berlin

Chapter 24   What I Do Bad?

Chapter 25   Winter Storm Nicholas

Chapter 26   Worth Fighting For

Chapter 27   A Psalm Of David

Chapter 28   A Bruised Reed

Chapter 29   Queenie

Chapter 30   Redemption

Chapter 31   And Grace Will Lead Us Home

Chapter 32   Jesus Loves The Little Children

Chapter 33   Friends Forever

Scripture Verses

Songs

Dedication

This is for all children everywhere who suffers from injustice and abuse of every kind throughout the world. You are not forgotten. You are not alone. This is for you. I also dedicate this to my Mother.

Acknowledgments

I would like to thank my sisters, Robbie and Lisa, for their encouragement and faith in this mission. Sharon Walling, my editor. To everyone at WestBow Press who helped work with me. And to God for the gift of this story, to Whom none of this would be possible. The mornings chase to the farthest star, but I can’t run that far . . . We can only go as far as our faith will take us.

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Take heed that you do not despise one of these little ones, for I say to you that in Heaven their Angels always see the face of my Father who is in Heaven.

Matthew 18:10

It would be better for him if a milestone were hung around his neck, and he were thrown into the Sea, than that he should offend one of these little ones.

Luke 17:2

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CHAPTER ONE

Suffer The Little Children

THE SUMMER’S EARLY afternoon sun beats down on her as she silently walks down the familiar street, her golden retriever beside her. She hasn’t visited here in many years, but remembers the way. At eighteen, she dresses her petite frame with the influence of the 1980s: teased hair, heavy on the makeup, black tank top with pumps, and tight, blue jeans with a thin belt. She doesn’t care if it’s outdated, she likes it, and she never runs with the pack.

The music from a nearby ice cream truck causes her to pause as memories surface. A time with a friend who shared her early years, her secrets and dreams, her pain, and ice cream. The truck slows down and stops. An elderly gentleman lowers the side window.

Hey, he says, smiling, recognizing her. Haven’t seen you in a while. Would you like some ice cream today? Maybe your favorite?

Okay.

He disappears for a moment then returns. Here you go, he says cheerily. Cherry popsicle.

Thanks. She gives him a handful of coins.

Good to see you. Enjoy.

Bye, she says, waving.

She continues her walk as she scans each house, searching for a particular one in the old neighborhood in the suburb of Cleveland, Ohio. She recognizes a tall tree at the end of the block. She was always afraid of it, but it doesn’t seem so bad now. She recalls the houses as she passes them. Most of the old neighbors have since moved away.

When she finally finds it, she stops. She stands across the street in front of the two-story house on Larchmont Road where she grew up. She gazes at it in deep reflection. She remembers it being bigger back then.

Now it looks run down and neglected. The door to the garage needs to be restored. Paint chipped on the side of the house could make it look years younger with a new coat. Weeds have taken over the yard. The vacant space that used to be next to it seemed like a meadow to her as a child, a place where she would explore the world of caterpillars and other insects. Now the lot has a new house. The sidewalk in front of the house is the same—still cracked and raised in random places. A screen on the front door is the only thing new.

When the dog sees the house, he begins to bark and howl, becoming restless. He looks up at her and like a guard, stays by her side.

Pieces of memories gather as a cool breeze passes over her, giving her a brief relief from the humidity. It blows her long blonde hair away from her neck, revealing a scar from a fire years earlier. Memories surface which have lied deep inside her like a dark stage full of actors waiting for the lights to come on. They come to life at any little thing: the sound of a dog barking, the smell of a flower, the sound of an ice cream truck, the taste of a popsicle, a song, and the sight of an old house. Together they form a collection of memories, some good, some bad. A feeling of dread washes over her as she thinks about one vivid memory in particular that stands out.

You know what you are, don’t you? An angry voice from the past resonants. A brat!

She stares at the front door, as if able to look right through it into the house and into the past. Looking up at the second-floor window which was once her bedroom, her mind wanders back to another time, long ago.

TWELVE YEARS AGO

The ashen clouds linger over the same white two-story home on Larchmont Road. Although ordinary, it stands regal in the middle of the street. It owns a reputation of being a lively house full of ebullience—until recent days. Built in the late 1920s, it resembles many of the homes from that era. An attic sits on top of the second floor. The driveway stretches past the house and leads to the garage in the back. An American flag waves from one of the porch columns.

The yard is white with snow. Icicles drip in front of frosted windows. Appearing to be peaceful from the outside, no one would ever know what is taking place inside.

On the porch Frodo scratches at the screen. He barks anxiously. He appears to be looking for help as he turns around. Another dog nearby begins to bark, setting off all the other dogs in the neighborhood barking, howling, and whining.

Inside it’s quiet downstairs, except for the ticking of the grandfather clock. Nothing seems to be in disarray. A loud thud upstairs shakes the house. The cry of a child’s voice follows.

Mommy! Mia cries out. She gasps and clutches her throat, wheezing. Her heart rate escalates as she goes into a panic. She weakly calls out. Mom—

Erika reaches out to help her, trying to protect her daughter. Jesse grabs her by the arms so hard it leaves an imprint. You stay put! You help her and I’ll kill you both. Erika turns to Mia with desperation. Jesse lets her go and backhands her. She falls against the dresser. She comes at him again and he forces her off, sending her to the floor out in the hallway.

What’s the matter? he gets in Mia’s face, mocking her, looking into her fear-filled eyes. Can’t breathe? He grins, apparently getting some enjoyment watching her struggle to breathe. He drags her out by the arm through the hallway, and into the bathroom. In futile attempt she repeatedly hits his arm with her small fist.

Erika, shaken and unsteady, slowly gets up, clinging to the wall in the hallway. Hearing her little daughter crying and gasping for breath brings her out of her daze. Jesse holds Mia under one arm over the tub, her hair dripping wet. Erika knows she must do everything possible to stop him.

You know what you are, don’t you? He shouts at Mia. You’re a brat! A stupid spoiled brat!

Leave her alone! Erika rushes at Jesse. She pounds him with tight fists everywhere. Mia falls from his hold. He throws Erika off with little effort, sending her reeling and staggering.

She quickly comes back. Seeing the savage look in his eyes, she backs away from him. Mia! she cries out, and rushes toward her, but is stopped. She raises her hands to hit him. He grabs her by the arms. She desperately tries to get free.

He puts his hand around her throat, and squeezes. She strains and fights to breathe. His jaw clenches, his lips narrow and quiver, and his eyes scowl at her.

Petrified, Mia watches, unable to move, lying on her back on the bathroom floor, her little body shaking. Her hair and clothes are drenched. The water from the tub is still running, and spills over onto the floor. She wheezes and coughs, crying as she tries to breathe.

You want a fight? Jesse yells, getting louder. You want to fight me? Yeah? He releases Erika’s throat. She coughs and pants. He grabs her by the arms in a tight grip, walking her backwards toward the stairs.

Erika looks behind her at the steep descent and lets out a frantic plea. Jesse! Please! She pushes against him, but his hold is too strong. She tries to knee him in the groin, but he blocks her with his leg. She stomps on his foot. He yells. Now you’ve done it!

He spins her around and wraps his arms tight around her waist. He continues forcing her toward the stairs, trying to push her down, but she resists. She grabs hold of the handrail, trying to hold on.

He lifts her up to throw her down. She claws at him, kicking her legs and screaming. She reaches her hands around behind her, trying to scratch his face or eyes. He lets her go and shoves her. She grabs for the handrail, but misses. She tumbles down the stairs.

Mia watches on in horror, thinking her mother is dead and panics believing she’s next. She begins to pant fiercely. She tries to move her body, but she can’t. She’s still paralyzed with fear.

Jesse looks down at Erika. She lies there, not moving. He looks back in Mia’s direction. The top of his foot throbs as he limps back to the bathroom.

Mia looks up at Jesse, looming over her. He looks down at her like a dangerous animal. You stupid, little girl! I’ll teach you a lesson you won’t soon forget! He turns the water off in the tub and leaves.

She is swept up in a vortex of terror not knowing what Jesse is going to do. She does the only thing she knows she can, what her grandmother taught her. She prays. Help me, Jesus, she whispers. Please help me.

Jesse gets a baseball bat from the hall closet. Erika keeps it there if she’s ever in danger. He smirks at the irony. He limps down the hall toward Mia, tapping the side of his shoe with the bat.

Breathing hard, he stands over Mia, and raises the bat. She can do little, but lie there helpless on her back, and faintly whimpers as she looks into his merciless eyes. She’s barely able to lift her shaky hand over her eyes as tears fall.

EIGHT MONTHS EARLIER

The sun has cast its last shadow over the house and twilight’s begun. A train’s whistle blows in the distance. Trees silhouette against the sky when the stars slowly appear one by one like gems. Crickets, lightning bugs and cicadas put on a show displaying their lights and high-pitched buzzing when nightfall calls them to signal the end of the day. They play cheerfully in the garden, completely unaware of the troubles that plague the people who surround them in the world they all share.

How many times are we going to go over this? Dan asks. It’s the same every time. It never changes. You never change.

Mia’s parents are arguing again. Their failing marriage is leading to divorce. Dan is in his forties, clean cut, and aware of his good looks. And being a bit of a preppy boy, he’s always dressed mostly in designer clothes. He carries himself with a certain air when he walks, his back straight, and his chin raised.

Erika, his attractive, unstable, and soon to be ex-wife, is also in her forties. Her brown hair is highlighted, and she’s always wearing either cable knit or wrap around dresses.

The kitchen is in a state of neglected disarray. The coffee maker could stand a cleaning. Garbage piles up in the trash. Dirty dishes clutter the counter. He looks the place over, disgusted. The successful architect picks up an empty beer bottle. Still drinking?

Still sleeping with other women? Erika grabs the bottle and places it back on the counter. And you’re still running away! Always running. Running away from your family at the slightest sign of trouble because you don’t like anything that’s uncomfortable. Trying to sound strong, she raises her voice in defense, yet her trembling hands betray her. You walked out on life. And you don’t care your family needs you because you like everything rosy and, and . . . perfect. No problems. Dan doesn’t like problems. So, let’s not have any. Well, life isn’t like that, Dan!

You’re so messed up, he says with little sympathy. Always blaming everyone else for the way you are and the way your life turned out.

Oh! she says. As opposed to you, I suppose? You never take responsibility for anything. And you’re crazy! I don’t do that. That’s you. That’s your thing . . . yeah. She waves her hands as she rambles on. All you, what you do. And your—whatever. Everything’s about you.

Do you hear yourself, Erika? You don’t even make any sense. What are you trying to say?

Don’t make fun of me! Being in his presence makes her feel insignificant, like she isn’t good enough for him. Even now, she still hasn’t overcome childhood insecurities.

He snickers, shaking his head as he looks at the mess again, then looks her over. Peering into her eyes, he says, I can’t see it anymore, what I saw in you. I can’t watch as you let yourself decay. And the worse thing is, you don’t even care.

What did you come here for? she asks, holding back tears. Was it to beat me down again? Or maybe it was to throw your new relationship in my face? And what about your daughter? You don’t even call her.

That isn’t true!

She asks about you all the time. I have to lie to her.

As I remember you’re pretty good at that.

What kind of father are you? What kind of man does what you do?

What are you talking about?

You want to leave me, it’s one thing, but don’t turn your back on Mia. She doesn’t deserve that.

I love my daughter, but you make it difficult to see her. You get off on controlling when I can see or talk to her. Look, I came over to discuss the divorce, and I’ll tell you now, I’ll be asking for joint custody of Mia. He pauses for a moment, and sighs, appearing weary. I want to make this the least traumatic for her as possible. Can we do this amicably outside of the courtroom? Please, Erika, don’t make this difficult.

Oh, well of course not. Let’s make this a problem-free divorce even though our marriage wasn’t. Let’s have it as easy and painless as possible, for you. The way you like it. Nice and simple, neat and clean . . . for Dan. As long as it doesn’t interfere with his new life and he’s happy and all goes his way.

You make me sick.

Get out! she points to the door. Go to her! I’m sure she’s right outside waiting! And then you don’t have to look at me anymore.

Any woman compared to you would be an improvement.

Breaking through the strained atmosphere, a child’s voice softy speaks.

Daddy?

Dan and Erika turn to look at Mia, their only child. A precocious, cute little girl, with long blond hair, and small for her six years of age. She stands there in pink pajamas, holding a stuffed rabbit she calls Peter. She looks up at Dan with her innocent, piercing blue eyes as she waits his response.

Hey, Mia. He gives her a big smile. She walks to him, smiling. He picks her up, and holds her tight, kissing her. How’s my girl?

Good, Daddy, because you’re home. She wraps her arms around his neck. Dan directs a look at Erika, who’s standing with her arms folded, biting her lip, and looking at the floor.

How would you like to go to the zoo this weekend?

The zoo? Really? I like animals.

We have plans, Erika says, coldly.

What plans?

With her grandmother. She’s taking her to Cedar Point.

Dan sighs. Is this how it’s going to be? We’ll discuss it later. He smiles at Mia and gives her a hug. I’ll see you soon, all right? Daddy loves you. Never forget that.

Daddy, please stay, Mia says. I miss you.

I miss you, too, sweetheart. Things will get better, okay?

Okay.

Come here, baby, Erika says.

Mia slides down from Dan, and Erika takes her hand. Disappointment on their faces, Erika and Mia stand still looking at Dan. The house is fraught with silence. He opens the door and walks out, leaving them staring at the door.

Is daddy coming back home?

Erika sits down at the kitchen table, pulls Mia up on to her lap, and wraps her arms around her. No, baby. Daddy’s not coming back home.

Why? Mia asks, tightening her eyebrows.

Well, Mia, Daddy’s got a new life now.

Confusion and hurt are in Mia’s eyes. Did I do something?

No. You didn’t do anything wrong. Erika kisses her.

Darlene, the woman he left Erika for, is waiting for him in his new red Corvette. She’s in her early forties, appealing yet snooty, and overly confident. Her energetic, never-sit-still-seven-year-old son, Troy, is in the back seat. He constantly moves back and forth, singing a song to himself. She rolls her eyes and brings her hand to her forehead, obviously annoyed.

Dan gets in and takes off, tires screeching as if he couldn’t break out of there fast enough. They listen as the car drives away. Erika tries to be strong for her little girl. She hides the tears as she rocks Mia in her arms. She knows Mia doesn’t understand why her daddy doesn’t live there anymore.

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CHAPTER TWO

Wait For Me

THE SUN IS high and bright on a clear Saturday morning. Mia grabs her purple bike and kicks up the stand, on her way to see her best friend. Mark’s house is just a couple blocks away, and she knows the way there well. No matter what mood she may be in, seeing Mark always has a way of cheering her up.

Erika opens the screen door. Stay on the sidewalks.

I will. Love you, Mommy.

I love you, too. Erika watches her ride off until she’s out of sight.

Her feet pedal fast while the handlebar tassels fly in the wind. She smiles happy and carefree, waving to everyone she sees along the way. Her pigtails glisten in the daylight, and her bright eyes shine full of life.

Neighbors are out, taking advantage of the clear day. She smells the fresh cut grass as she passes. She rings the bell on her bike and calls out as she rides by with a wave. Hey, Mr. Moser.

Mr. Moser looks up from watering his lawn and smiles. Hey, Mia! Everyone responds the same way as she passes them. She flutters about like a butterfly, spreading her cheerfulness around, bringing everyone a reason to smile.

She rides on with anticipation to see Mark. Knowing him since she can remember, he’s always been there. He is the only one she can share everything with. And being with her is the only time he feels he can be himself. But there is a dark secret that Mark lives with. Only Mia has been allowed in to share with and bear the burden with him. She rings the bell as she rides up the front yard.

Mark’s sitting on the bottom step of the front porch. He is an adorable thin, dark-haired boy of just eight years with a few freckles on his nose. His left-sided grin reveals a missing tooth. He always walks slightly bent over to one side, favoring a sore back. He stutters around grownups, especially his dad, but never with Mia. His loyal golden retriever pup, Frodo, sits quietly next to him.

Hey, Mark! she greets him with a big smile.

He doesn’t seem to notice she’s there. His head is tilted down, and he looks downcast, staring blankly at the ground. He appears lost in his own world. She looks at him curiously, and gets off her bike. Gently she approaches him. She holds her hand out to him. Mark!

This time he snaps out of his trance. Lifting his head, his dark eyes light up when he sees Mia, as they always do. He raises his lopsided smile. He reaches out his hand and takes hold of hers.

Hi, Mia, he softly says, holding on to her hand until she sits next to him. Her presence in his life seems to calm his pain, bringing some sunshine to his dark world.

I got some chocolate.

What kind?

Your favorite. She takes a handful of Hershey’s Kisses from her pocket and shares with him.

Thanks, Mark says, shyly looking at her. The smile never leaving his face.

You’re welcome.

They quickly unwrap the chocolates, pop them in their mouths and giggle.

Frodo wags his tail. He whines and whimpers, pawing at her.

Hi, Frodo, she cheerfully says, petting him. Knowing what he already likes, she rubs his neck. When she stops, he puts his paw on her knee. Okay. You want some more? Not long after she notices Mark has returned to staring at the ground. She looks down on the ground. What’cha starin’ at?

Nothin’.

You watchin’ birds? she asks, knowing he likes to study them.

He shrugs.

You wanna go in and play video games?

He shakes his head. Nah.

What are you thinking?

I don’t know.

I got some stickers, Mia says.

Let’s see it.

Mia pulls a page of stickers from her pocket. You can have any one you want.

He looks over the unicorns, rainbows, and hearts. Can I have this one?

Sure. She peels off a red heart and hands it to him.

Thanks. He presses it on the back of his hand. She peels off a unicorn and presses it onto the back of her hand.

What’cha gonna do today?

Nothin’, he says quietly.

Well, would you like to be doing somethin’? With me?

Sure. He grins. What’cha have in mind?

Wanna ride bikes?

Okay. He moves to stand up, but has trouble getting up, and groans. Mia’s quick to help him up. Thanks, he says, getting up slowly.

An ice cream truck turns the corner. The sound of the calliope music gets her attention, and she gets excited. Look! The ice cream truck! Let’s get some! She steps out, waving her arms at the truck.

The driver, a middle-aged gentleman, pulls over and stops. They eagerly look over the different treats listed on the side of the truck. The man lowers the side window. Hey, kids.

Hi, Mark and Mia say together.

What’ll it be?

A cherry popsicle for me, please, Mia says.

I’d like a chocolate eclair, please, Mark says.

Coming right up.

They dig into their pockets and come up with change to pay the man. They thank him, and quickly tear into their ice creams.

You kids enjoy!

Bye, Mark says, and they wave as the ice cream truck slowly leaves. Let’s go! Mark takes off on his bike.

Hey, wait for me! Mia quickly follows him. Frodo barks as he runs down the street after them.

She pedals as fast as she can to catch up with him. Mark looks back. He stops his bike and waits for her. Let’s stop at the playground.

Okay.

They ride to the end of the block. They lay their bikes on the ground, and plop on the grass by the swings. Mia watches a ladybug crawl on her hand.

You buggin’ me? I think you’re buggin’ me. She looks closely at it, and giggles.

You know it took a long time for that bug to get here.

What do you mean?

Through the creation of time, Mark says. Thousands of years ago, or millions, nobody knows for sure. But she finally made it here after all these years.

Mia ponders on what he said as she curiously studies it on her hand until it falls into the grass. She rolls over on her back. You know what, Mark? This is the life. She looks around, then looks at her popsicle before finishing it. He admiringly watches her, wishing he could be carefree like her. The leaves of a nearby oak tree flutter about, and she spots a bird. She sits up, and points in excitement. There’s a bird, Mark. What kind is he?

He listens to the bird sing, then spots him in the tree. Oh, him? That’s a black-capped chickadee.

He’s so cute, and so little, she says. They watch him fly away. You sure do know a lot about birds.

There’s over a thousand different kinds of birds in the United States. We have like three hundred and fifty of them right here in Northeast Ohio. And the cardinal is our state bird. And anywhere there’s a lot of trees, that means there’s a lot of birds. That’s why I like parks.

Do you know what I discovered? You can’t sneeze with your eyes open. The eyes will shut like this. She pretends to sneeze, while opening and closing her eyes. Ah-choo! Did you see it? The eyes shut. You can’t keep the eyes open. You can’t stop it from happening.

Okay, next time I sneeze, I’m going to really try to notice. They watch Frodo as he rolls around in the grass, making them giggle.

Let’s go on the monkey bars. She jumps up.

Mark tries to stand up to follow her, but winces at a sharp pain, and falls onto the swing.

Are you okay? she asks, rushing to him.

I guess.

How bad is it this time?

Pretty bad.

Mia stands hovering over him. Let me see.

No!

Well, let me see! she insists.

Okay. It’s my back.

She gently lifts the back of his shirt. Blocks of black and blue bruises streak across his lower back. She gasps and flinches. He hangs his head in shame. His chin quivers and his eyes fill with tears.

Does it hurt? she says, softly.

He nods. He chokes out broken words, Especially . . . when . . . I breathe. He pulls his shirt back down.

She sits on the swing. What you do bad?

"I forgot to