Walking by the little white house with black shutters you see what they want you to see. A young couple with a little boy and a little girl running through the yard laughing and chasing each other. The little girls golden ringlets bounce as she squeals with delight. The boy embracing this moment to run. And the mother sitting on the bottom step, head down as you walk by is hoping you won’t see her black eye or the bruises on her arms. The tall man waves as you pass by and you go on about your day. That evening while you are making dinner you don’t think about the young family you passed by. When you prepare yourself for bed, all that is running through your head is what needs to be done tomorrow at work.

That house has it’s curtains drawn tight. Doors are locked not once, not twice but three times. And one lock can only be undone with a key, that the man holds on him at all times. The children are tucked in their dark little rooms and told to be quiet, not to make a sound. As those little babies lay there they hear what they hear every night. The yelling. The banging. The screams. The crying. And every other night their mommy will crawl in to their room and fall asleep crying in pain on the their bedroom floor. And the little girl with golden hair wipes tears away and the little boy rocks in his bed thinking of the day he will get that man back for hurting his mommy.

Tonight is different. They wait for the door to creak open and mommy to slink in. But she doesn’t come in right away. They don’t hear the banging anymore. They don’t hear the screams. The don’t hear the crying.

They wait.

The door slowly opens. Mommy is standing there with a suit case. She grabs the babies and whispers to them to be very very quiet.

“Grab one lovely my dear, we have to go.”

The little girl looks up at her mommy, and the light of the moon touches her face and she sees it. She sees the blood and the blue and purple colors that have taken over her mommy fair skin. She swallows her tears and her fear and she moves swiftly and quetly. The little boy grabs a car and is silently crying. The day has come. The day is here. The moment came. They are running.

Mommy had spoken of a day when they would be free. To go and play with no fear. A day where sadness would be replaced with happiness. A day were the only tears they would shed would be happy tears.

Was this the day?

They slink through the house not to wake the man. The man lay on the couch with the remote in his bloody hand, not his blood, her blood. His shirt was stained with sweat and blood and he was passed out with a beer in the other hand. His snore was loud and his chest rose up and fell down in perfect rhythm. Nothing else mattered.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. The years had gotten worse. She felt she could fix it. That if she was just a better person he’d be better. Nothing helped. It just got worse. There was no fix. And this was it. If was life or death.

She moved with ease regardless of the pain she felt. The burning, oh the burning of the open cuts that she knew were on her face. The blood still trickled a little down her cheek. She must keep going. Do not stop. MOVE.

The key was easily to grab tonight. It sat in the bowl by the front door. He got messy tonight.

She slipped the key into the hole, turned it in slow motion and all three of them were like frozen status. The slight click sent her heart racing and her mind flying.

With the little ones and their lovelies and her purse… she ran.

Out the front door. Threw the kids into their car seats. And jumped in the front seat and took off. She didn’t care how loud she was now. She wanted him to know that she was gone. She drove.

And she drove.

And drove.

They were free.

They were gone.

They were lost.

She had little money. He only had $20 in his wallet and she had found a few dollars though the days here and there.

They had no where to go.

No where to hide.

She pulled into a gas station. 3 a.m. Babies sleeping in the back. And she cried. She cried like she had never cried before.

There was a tap, a jump, and the look of concern on an officers face. She cracked the window and he told her he could help.

Calls made, talking. Questions. Candy for the little people. And a cup of coffee or two.

A van appears and woman with the face of an angel comes in. Smiles her light the room on fire smile and slides next to the blood stained woman and embraces her and lets her know she is here to help.

And with that they are on their way to a safe haven. A place where he won’t find them. A place to find herself and to build a new life with her children. A place that takes someone broken…and gives them the power and necessary resources to rebuild themselves back up!.

Opal’s House is one of these places. It’s a shelter, it’s a home and its such an important past of the community in which we live in.

Opal’s House Mission is to eliminate the effects of domestic violence within families or intimate partner relationships. Provide resources for battered women and their children and to EMPOWER them to rebuild and live their lives free of fear from harm within their families.

My dear friend Michelle of Macaroni Kid did a shout out for donations for Opal’s House. I being on the other side of the river decided to jump in with her and help her out the best I could. So I decided to do a drive here on the Metro East side. And boy was I amazed and taken aback by the generosity of my friends and complete strangers. I was touched and was so excited to fill my large SUV from floor to ceiling with donations! It was amazing!  {please excuse my lack of knowledge with a point and shoot, I am still figuring this thing out lol}

Thank you to the sister for always going along for the ride… being by my side… supporting my whims… and packing a mean truck!

We made it to the party a little late…. so we were not lucky enough to see and help unload the UHAUL Michelle brought over But she was able to fill this entire room with donations.

Wow!! Right??

From our mad packing skills were were able to fill up the office with all of our donations! I knew my giant beast would come in handy someday!

And here we are. We are missing one person, Megan. She complained of old people knees and hobbled out of the picture!

And from what you can see…. Steph and I have some serious issues with getting our pictures taken. Being BEHIND the camera for so long… we’ve forgotten how to act in front of the camera. We’ll work on that lol

I want to send out a special thanks to all the folks that donated. You came out in a cool evening and helped me load a car full of hope. I appreciate it and will always be thankful for people like you in my life!!

So 2012 is kicking off with a great start. I couldn’t be happier as to where it is going. Only good things from here on out!

What are some charities you give to? Is there a cause you feel really strongly about? I’d like to hear what you have to say! Comment below or shoot me an email at just2sisters@mcpeeksmith.com

If you are interested in helping out Opal’s House here is how.

www.opalshouse.org

618-875-8920

They are always looking for donations and volunteers.

And if you or someone you know need to speak to someone and need help. There is a hotline they can call. 1-877-672-5482

Thanks for stopping by and taking the time to read what I have got to say.