The Flight of a Sparrow

By Karen Augustine

The Flight of a Sparrow is a true story about a young aboriginal woman whose life was chaos and darkness. The book tells of her struggles, challenges, and the abuse that was put upon her and how she coped in order to survive. It also describes the victory beyond the bare survival. It is about a journey of moving from a past into a future that God unfolded as she grew in her trust of his plan for her. It's about a message to others that says, "Do not give up. You are not alone. You are a child of God." Visualize a run-down cabin with no prospect of ever being repaired because the damage is too great. The foundation is crumbling and its core has been eaten away by termites and wood ants. Its windows are broken, and the structure stands alone. It is surrounded by wet overhanging trees that refuse to let the daylight in. The only solution is to tear it all down. On some level, Grace is this rotting and neglected cabin. Long before she was created, the familial foundation was unstable; the ground had not been properly prepared for such a structure. She had no one to fend off the invaders who came into her life to destroy what little identity she had managed to build. She had no one to help her grow into the woman that she should have been. No one was there to nurture her so she could reach her potential. What was the Carpenter going to do with this decaying mess?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Christian Faith Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Aug 9, 2019
• ISBN: 9781645690443

Book preview

Early Years

The Lord is my light and my salvation—so why should I be afraid?

The Lord is my fortress, protecting me from danger, so why should I tremble?

When evil people come to devor me, when my enemies and foes attack me,

They will stumble and fall. Though a mighty army surrounds me, my heart will not be afraid. Even if I am attacked, I will remain confident.

—Psalm 27: 1–3

As Grace looks back on her life, she wonders just how she got to this place. She recalls a day when one moment, she was just a small child, and then in an instant—a woman.

Grace was a beautiful child who no one wanted. Most children her age, learned to play and have fun, but not Grace. There was no time for child’s play. Her innocence was stolen at a very early age, and she was not at all like any other child. She had to grow up quickly to survive in her world. She was always a loner; never allowing anyone to get close.

Since she came from a large family, you would think she would have a friend within the family.

All five brothers and three sisters were also struggling from abuse, which made it hard for them to form any kind of friendship. She saw each one being beaten. One time, she watched her father throw one of her brothers through a picture window, all because he refused to go to bed.

Another time, Grace was caught in the crossfire of one of her parent’s arguments. In the middle of their fight, her dad set her on the hot woodstove, and burned her buttocks. The smell of burning flesh was all she could remember. She couldn’t think of the pain, because if she had, it would become too real, knowing her own father would hurt her that way. She was unable to sit for weeks, and her sister ended up looking after her. Grace was defenseless during this time, which made it easy for her father to abuse her. People knew abuse was happening, yet they refused to get involved. She wanted to forget the memories of those dark days, but it was hard when the past followed her throughout her childhood.

It was difficult to find a safe place to hide in her home. Being cramped up in the little house was like living in a sardine can. With the size of her family, the house was way too small. There were only three bedrooms; one for the parents, and the other two, for the boys. The four girls slept in the parent’s room. That way, it was easier for the father to get to Grace. The mattress was so full of holes and protruding springs, it was hard to find a good spot to sleep. Though she was surrounded by people, she was always alone. She seemed to blend in with the furniture—the little they had. There were times when she imagined herself as an invisible girl who could walk through walls and feel free to explore other peoples’ houses and how they lived.

She was a shy and quiet girl, speaking only when spoken to. She didn’t talk back to anyone because she was taught to respect those in authority. Though she was silent, her body language told so much and spoke much louder than her own voice. She was not willing to open up to anyone, nor dared to. Maybe she was afraid of what her words would say. She became a mime and even though her body language spoke volumes, no one responded. Eventually, she created a protective shield around her and spent most of her life, invisible to others. She desperately needed people to hear the cry of her raging heart, but they walked on by. She felt like a child waiting in an orphanage for someone to pick her, but each time, they chose someone else. With so many of life’s rejections, she got used to being all by herself. In time, she learned how to shut out the world and deafen those who did speak to her. Even though she didn’t have much to smile about, Grace always wore one.

When you think of five-year-old, what comes to mind? A happy-go-lucky kid with pigtails and a beautiful dress—daddy’s little princess. When you look at an abused child, what do you see? A little girl lost in the shuffle of a life that wasn’t her fault, forced to be a woman at a very early age; a life no child should have to go through.

Grace’s dad did the worst thing a father could do to his children and what no father should do to his little girl. He abused her sexually. When she was five years old, he said that it was time to become a woman and he forced himself onto her triplet sister first and then Grace. All Grace could do, was cry out because the pain was so unbearable, but no one came to her rescue. Her mother, who was just sitting there watching as her husband abused his daughters, did nothing to come to their aid. Later on, Grace tuned out this memory because of the pain it brought back. She does remember other times praying and asking God for help. It was then she was able to take her body away from such a horrible situation. Sometimes, a person just has to detach in order to get away, and that was what Grace did.

Grace kept her distance to keep herself safe, but the abuse came anyway, and no matter how bad it got, she never allowed anyone to see her pain. She felt so alone that she had to create an imaginary friend. At first, she wasn’t sure what to call her, so she came up with Hope, because without hope, she wouldn’t survive. Hope became her companion and heard about all the bad things that happened. She never had any toys to play with, not even a doll, so to have someone like Hope, was a gift Grace gave to herself. That way, no one would ever take her gift away. She was able to trust Hope, because she was always there to listen and never talked back. She heard the cry of a child who was in so much pain. Grace needed someone to be there for her and Hope helped her with that need. Whatever Grace had to do and wherever she went, Hope went with her. Through Hope, she was able to tolerate the beatings and abuse caused by her family.

From the time Grace could walk and talk, the abuse was already happening in the home. She was born out of it. She was neglected at an early age and was left without any supervision from her mother. There were days when the children would be left unattended while the parents went out to drink. The children went without food, and half the time, they were starving. It was more than lack of food; it was lack of love. Grace began to care for her siblings, but one wonders how this child learned to care for others, when she was never exposed to any herself. Meanwhile, the abuse never stopped. It was a cycle that just kept on going, from spousal abuse to child abuse. It included both physical and emotional cruelty. Grace’s life was going nowhere. She had no sense of self-worth and never saw herself as anything but an opportunity for someone to use. When was it ever going to stop? she would ask herself. It never did. She was raised in violence which took her on a different path. She never wanted to be like her family. She wanted to change that, but the abuse took a toll on her, which then created a path to nowhere—to a place so dark that the only hope for survival was getting out. But there was no getting out. The only people she knew were those she lived with.

She never allowed anyone to see her cry because she was taught to keep the tears in. If she cried, she would receive more beatings, so she forced herself to control the tears by holding them back. She couldn’t understand why her mother would treat her child that way. She was never like the mother bear caring for her cub. She was more like an angry lion eating her young. She felt isolated, never really knowing what tomorrow would bring. She didn’t see a future for her to dream about; living instead, each day as if it was her last. Life was unpredictable when it came to her parents because they were evil dressed in clothes. Her mother physically abused her. Her father sexually abused her. One of her brothers, who turned out to be just like the father, abused her also.

From the time she was a little girl, hope was all she had to hold onto. She believed if she prayed hard enough, her prayers would be answered. She prayed for a better life and asked God to save her, but as each day came, she was faced with more obstacles. Church was her safe haven and gave her comfort knowing she could turn to God. When she was asked if she would like to go downstairs with the other kids for Sunday school, she said no and remained still and quiet in the back pew. Church was never filled with people, and she couldn’t understand that. There were many times when she would hear her mother yell out, Jesus Christ and wonder why, if she wanted Jesus so badly, she didn’t come to church and talk to him.

The only time Grace ever felt God’s presence was when she was singing. She sang with passion. When she sang, she was able to release any pain she felt. She had a wonderful voice, and when she sang solo, the people in the church just listened and all eyes were on her. Grace never had voice lessons, but when she sang, it was powerful. The one song she will always cherish is Be Not Afraid. This song allowed her to believe that God would walk her through any storm. She may have come from a broken home, but no matter how broken she was inside, she always looked to God.

There was never a Sunday that Grace missed church. Some days, she would just walk in because the doors were always open to anyone who needed to pray. She was only six years old when she began to understand who that man was on the cross and what he did for all the people in the world. Her little mind would wonder and ask questions like, Why did his Father let him die? Didn’t God love him? Was Jesus that bad that he had to be killed? These were questions only a priest could answer, and she did ask.

The one thing she will always remember is when she asked a priest, What is sin? and he replied, It is when people do bad things such as not listening to their parents when they ask them to do things. Grace thought about that and wondered whether she would end up like Jesus because she didn’t want to do things that her mommy and daddy wanted her to do. The priest also told her not to bother talking to God because he didn’t like dirty Indians. Her six-year-old mind couldn’t comprehend what that meant, so she ignored it and continued going. If church was where God was, she was going to continue going, despite what the priest said. She was getting mixed messages from all around—her family, teachers, and even a man who worked for God.

A church is supposed to be a place where you should feel safe, but even that place became agonizing because of the things that happened there too. Grace couldn’t understand why a man who worked for God, would do such things to a child. She was being prepared to be a part of the church body. She was in grade two and along with her classmates, they had to attend some of the confirmation classes with the priest. Most children would end up staying longer (especially all the girls) because the priest wanted to see them afterwards.

Grace remembers the doors of his study closing and how he would talk to them so nicely at first but then ask them to take off their clothes. Like any seven-year-old, they listened to an adult. He would have them bend down and he touched each one. Grace felt something was wrong. It was the same feeling she got each time her father touched her. The priest would remind each one that this was her lesson and that no one should know about it. He also said if they did tell anyone, all their rights to be part of God’s family would be taken away. This went on even after their confirmation, but only with Grace. He reminded her over and over, that no one would love a dirty Indian, but he would, as long as she did what he said.

The church wasn’t a safe place anymore, but she was told that she had to go. She began to hate God and what he represented. What kind of sick God would allow this to happen to a child? Her faith was destroyed, and she felt that this was God’s way of punishing her because she didn’t listen to her parents. She figured God didn’t want anything to do with her and maybe the priest was right all along. Her prayers were just a waste of time. She felt betrayed and that the church was nothing but another disappointment. Her trust was broken by the very thing she thought she could turn to. Church was her last place for peace, so she dug a hole beneath the building and when things got really bad at home, she could retreat there. She spent days hiding, and like a scared rabbit, she kept herself hidden until it was time to come out. She was trying to keep her faith strong, yet all the wrong messages she was receiving, made her rethink God. Why would he allow a man to do such thing? Maybe God didn’t like dirty Indians just as the priest said, and that was why God didn’t do anything to save her. Her mind raced with many questions. She tried to reach out to God, but that ended as the abuse got worse.

There was a time in her life when she wanted to end it. At the age of seven, she was forced to perform a sexual act on her brother who was three years older. She refused, but the cycle of violence was within him. He took her into the woods and assaulted her. During the abuse, not only was she attacked by him, but also by hornets. Not only did he disturb her, he also awakened the hornets, which got angry at them for trespassing on their turf. As the hornets attacked, Grace was stung all over her body. The pain was unreal, but she tried to stay strong.

Her brother reminded her that if she told anyone, he was going to hurt her. The only thing she could think about, was explaining to her aunt why she had been naked. She couldn’t tell her about what had happened with her brother because that would break the code of silence they had promised each other. From one abuse to another, it was just enough for her to go over the edge. As she entered the house, her aunt started yelling at her and took a belt to her. All Grace could do was think about death because she couldn’t bear to take this life anymore. Dying seemed so much simpler than facing another day of abuse. She was stuck with this family, and she needed to forget what was happening, so she mentally created a big box to hold her secrets and anything else that represented her family.

As a child, Grace learned to take on the role of a parent. She cared for her siblings while her parents went on drinking binges. There were times when she had to hunt for food to feed the younger kids, even if it meant stealing or picking through the neighbors’ garbage. She prowled the nights like a raccoon and searched without stopping until she hit the jackpot. Sure, the food she found was full of bugs, but at that point, she really didn’t care. She washed it or wiped away the dirt and bugs. She would save what she found and then give it to the kids in the morning. She never took any of it because she wanted them to eat first. She was so thin, she looked sick.

You have likely said, I am so hungry I could eat a horse, but have you felt like you could eat anything because you were starving?

Well, Grace was starving to a point where she did eat paper, sand, or Kleenex just to keep her tummy from hurting; even her own feces given by her older brother. He thought it was funny, but she didn’t care; it was something. There was no food in the house because her parents spent the money to buy wine and beer. Eventually, she was able to go without food for days because her system got used to being empty. This led to her eating disorder. She thought if she starved herself, then maybe she would die. But something within her just kept on fighting.

Never judge a person until you have walked a mile in their shoes.

Throughout her childhood years, she had to put aside childish behaviors and be a grown-up for her parents. She was a woman within a child, and she maintained that role for a long time. She never got to play with dolls or play dress up. There wasn’t much time for that because she was too busy trying to survive the grown-up world. The familiar phrase, kids will be kids describes children who do whatever they feel like, because that is what kids are supposed to do; but not Grace. Her role as a girl ended at the age of seven. She became a mother to her two-year-old sister after her mother left. That was her job because their aunt refused to look after a child that wasn’t hers.

From the time Grace could remember, she watched her father beat up her mother, using her as a punching bag. There were times when her mother was so swollen from a beating, it was hard to recognize her behind all the bruises. Maybe this is why her mother was so hateful to Grace. When Grace was seven, her mother decided that she’d had enough of the beatings and left without saying goodbye to her children. She cared only for herself and left the father. She only took one child, Anne. The rest she left behind. Grace couldn’t understand why she saved herself and not her children. Like any child, she waited for her mother’s return, but she never came back. This left Grace to take care of the household. With looking after seven kids, cleaning house, doing laundry, and caring for her father, she was overwhelmed. There was not much food to prepare for meals, so it was first come first served. But she managed to get a bit to eat.

Her father was barely home, and if he was, he was drunk. He was a mean drunk, and he cried a lot too; not about other people, but for himself.

Imagine a pack of wild wolves hunting for food. There is always one that needs to devour its prey before anyone else.

He was that wolf. He was a wild animal when he was drunk, and he would attack without warning. Physically and sexually, he didn’t see her as his daughter. It was almost as if Grace was paying the price for her mother’s absence.

Six months after her mother had been gone, her father decided that it was too much for him to look after his own kids, so he asked his sisters to come and take a child. The aunts came in and said, I will take that one. Grace felt like they were in an animal shelter and people came to pick their choice of the litter. It was never about loving the kids. It was more about what the child could do for them. Grace and her two-year-old sister stayed together. Her father’s family were strangers to her, and she wondered how she was going to cope. It was hard to adjust because she didn’t know who these people were. Things started out well for almost a week, but then the aunt became very aggressive toward Grace.

Almost eight, Grace thought she was free from the abuse at last, but the cycle was never-ending. The beatings and cruelty were only the beginning of what was yet to come. She tried everything to please her aunt, but nothing she did was good enough. But she never stop trying. Grace was a little fighter and never gave up. During her time with her aunt, she lived like a prisoner. Her baby sister was her jail mate. Grace felt that even a prisoner was given more freedom than what she had. Her schedule was mapped out. Get up at 3:30 a.m. and prepare things for her baby sister. Do her chores before catching the school bus. If she missed the bus, she had to walk to school, which took an hour. There were a lot of days when she missed the bus because her aunt wasn’t happy with anything that Grace did, and she had to redo her chores.

Grace dreaded the weekends when her uncle came home from working in the woods all week. Friday through Sunday was like hell because this was the uncle’s time of abuse. It started with touching, and it progressed each time he came home from work. He would sneak into her room, which was a small closet, and would wake her up. Grace tried hard to ignore his whispers, but couldn’t when his voice got louder in the confined space. His words, It’s time, were all that echoed in her head. Grace wasn’t sure what to do, but she knew she couldn’t tell her aunt. Her uncle told her that if she told anyone, her baby sister would go away, and she wouldn’t want that. Grace would have done anything to protect her little sister.

Her aunt and uncle owned a trailer in the country. They would sometimes spend weekends there. It was a big trailer. It had four bedrooms, which gave Grace and her little sister a place to sleep. They even had a bed of their own, and it was like a little doll house. At first, Grace thought maybe this was a dream or a joke, and she wondered why her aunt would give her this luxury. Her aunt acted differently when she was off the reservation and away from her other sisters. It was odd watching this woman transform into someone Grace always wanted, someone who cared. Though it may seem like it was perfect, Grace wasn’t free from abuse. To her uncle, it didn’t matter where they went, he would always get to her.

Grace never celebrated a birthday. It was just another day to her until the day she turned nine. She woke up early as usual, and when she turned on the kitchen light, there was something on the table. It was addressed to her. She wasn’t sure if she should open it, so she just waited and did her chores. When her aunt came down and asked, Don’t you like what we bought you? Grace looked at her and said she didn’t know she was allowed to open it. When she opened it, there was something she never expected from her aunt. It was a book about how to care for a horse. Grace was so grateful that someone remembered her birthday, so she thanked the aunt. She told Grace, After school, when you return home, I want you to clean the stall. Grace knew it was too good to be true.

That afternoon when