My Sister, My Protector

By S.O. Strenuo

Eve was only three years old when she first witnessed domestic abuse. Eve was only eight years old when she was first sexually abused. This is her story, but her story is not alone. Unfortunately studies show that one in four little girls and one in six little boys have been, or will, be sexually abused.

Abuse is a cycle. It starts with one generation and is passed down to the next.

My Sister, My Protector is based on the true story of one family. It covers three generations of abuse, starting with seventeen-year-old Mary. If you or anyone you know can relate to this story, there is help. Please talk to someone.

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• Language: English
• Publisher: Page Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Sep 8, 2023
• ISBN: 9798887939889

Book preview

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My Sister, My Protector

S.O. Strenuo

Copyright © 2023 S.O. Strenuo

All rights reserved

First Edition

PAGE PUBLISHING

Conneaut Lake, PA

First originally published by Page Publishing 2023

ISBN 979-8-88793-928-5 (pbk)

ISBN 979-8-88793-988-9 (digital)

Printed in the United States of America

Table of Contents

First Generation

Chapter 1

True Love Lost

Chapter 2

Mary and George

Chapter 3

Mara, Daughter of the First Generation

Chapter 4

Mara Goes to School

Chapter 5

The Town Drunk

Second Generation

Chapter 6

Mara Finds Love

Chapter 7

Young Married Life

Chapter 8

The Picnic

Chapter 9

Mommy-Daughter Necklaces

Third Generation

Chapter 10

Big Sister Eve

Chapter 11

Mara Goes Back to Work

Chapter 12

Finding Tillie

Chapter 13

A New Start

Chapter 14

Christmas with the Family

Chapter 15

Mara and Joe

Chapter 16

The Monster Strikes

Chapter 17

Mara's New Life

Conclusion

Resources

I Couldn't Do This Without You

Reviews

About the Author

For there is nothing hidden that will not be disclosed and nothing concealed that will not be known or brought out into the open.

—Luke 8:17 NIV

It is true that what happens in our childhood affects us years later into adulthood and our senior years.

It is why some have the confidence to love and to be loved.

It is why others are afraid of love, or even worse, they don't even know what real love is.

It is why some children are closer to their teachers than their own parents.

It is why some seniors are angry, afraid, and feel they must fight.

It is why grandmotherly women feel the need to tell the young girls the importance of picking a boyfriend who won't beat her.

It is why some feel well-adjusted and some feel constantly out of place.

Dear reader,

To many, this will be just a story, one I hope moves you to think, to change, to care, and to make a difference. You see, this is the story of an actual family. It is the true story of what happens when secrets are kept and no one noticed and no one cared.

Domestic abuse spanning three generations left scars that the eye cannot see. Child sexual abuse spanning three generations left emotional scars—scars that no one truly understood. This is the story of how that abuse affected someone I care about. She is called Eve in the book. She was my hero, my protector, and she was abused beyond belief. She first witnessed domestic violence as a toddler. She first was sexually abused at the tender age of eight, but the abuse didn't stop there. Family members knew about the abuse, but no one did anything. Was it because they didn't believe a child? Was it because it was considered normal behavior? Unfortunately, we will never know. What we do know is that the truth must be told to stop the abuse cycle. The truth must be told to heal.

I have taken some literary liberties, and the names have been changed of all those involved. I pray Eve's story, our story, touches you and makes a difference in your life or the life of someone you care about.

May God bless you,

S. O. Strenuo

First Generation

Chapter 1

True Love Lost

The year was 1917. Seventeen-year-old Mary was madly in love with a local farm boy in rural Pennsylvania. Robert was her one and only true love. He was handsome with blond hair that some considered way too long; to Mary, it was just right. He had a beautiful smile, and his eyes would twinkle every time he looked at Mary. The sight of him in a white dress shirt and suspenders each Sunday morning stole Mary's heart. He was a hardworking young man and someone everyone looked to if something needed to be done. Robert was responsible but poor.

To Robert, Mary was everything he could ever wish for. She was beautiful and petite with straight auburn hair and big brown eyes. She had a smile that could light up a room with the biggest and most adorable dimples Robert had ever seen. Mary had a certain elegance that few young women had. She carried herself with grace. She was the eldest of fourteen children, and Robert could tell by the way she cared for her siblings that she would make an excellent mother.

Mary's family was very respected in the community. Her father was the prominent superintendent of the local brickyard. He was a strong man with chiseled features. At work, he ruled with an iron fist; his word was always the final word. No one ever questioned his authority. At home, he had a soft heart toward his family, especially his firstborn. He was a God-fearing man, and God was always his compass.

Against her father's wishes, Mary would steal away with Robert for some private time whenever she could. Mary often would take Robert to lunch, and they would spend quality time together down by the stream. They would listen to the water flow and the birds sing as they sat beneath an oak tree they had carved their initials in, signifying their love. It was always such a peaceful and quiet place to make plans for their future together; those plans included getting married as soon as summer came. A June wedding was what they were planning. Mary had been making her wedding dress for months, and the church ladies started sewing the wedding quilt, a standard for all newly married couples.

Across the ocean and worlds away, WWI began. Mary's father got monthly updates via telegraph; he kept the family and the community informed about what he knew. This all seemed very sad to Mary, but it was a war on foreign soil. It truly did not concern her, until it did.

Just a few months before the planned wedding date, Woodrow Wilson, then president, declared war against Germany. Robert was only eighteen when he did what he thought was a very responsible thing. Mary was heartbroken to learn that along with several local boys, Robert joined the army, saying he wanted to make the world safe. At the train station, Mary's family and Robert's family both said their goodbyes to Robert. Mary clung to him as long as she could, tears streaming down her face. Robert was strong as always and promised he would return. He told her she had to finish her wedding dress and make preparations for their special day; it would happen as soon as he returned.

Mary's father would continue to get updates from the front. During WWI, the United States sent more than a million young men to Europe. Robert was one of almost three hundred thousand American boys who did not return alive. Mary collapsed when her father told her the news of the battle that took Robert's life. Mary was devastated; her grief consumed her. She was unable to eat, unable to sleep, and unable to notice the small swell that started to grow inside her. Robert may have died during WWI, but his love did not. His love lived on in the child that Mary was carrying.

Being pregnant and alone was frightening for Mary. She was afraid of what her parents would say, she was afraid of what her siblings would say, but mostly she was afraid of the changes that were happening within her and what she would do. She had thoughts that her family would disown her and leave her alone to fend for herself and her unborn child. When Mary finally told her father, he was compassionate but concerned as to how Mary would care for herself and the baby in the years ahead. Mary was also concerned about how could she care for herself and her unborn child.

History shows us that a young pregnant and unmarried woman could work in the local factories but for only a quarter of what her male counterparts would earn. Domestics in 1917 would often work for just room and board. No wealthy family in the area would want a woman with a child to work as a domestic; it simply wasn't done. The only way for an unwed woman with children to survive was to work on the streets or to marry. Mary and her father had conversations, and it was clear to her father that Mary was too gentle and naive to survive alone.

As superintendent, Mary's father controlled the company store and the company shacks many of the workers lived in. The shacks were small but sufficient; each had a small kitchen with a cookstove. A rough-hewed table and chairs finished the kitchen space. Each shack had at least one bedroom with a brass bed and a small dresser placed under the bedroom window. In the center of the main living space was a fireplace flanked by wooden chairs. At the time her father learned of Mary's pregnancy, he had been renting a shack to a