Cooking some cuppies in the microwave went very quickly. But because they weren't being supported in a muffin tray, the dough spread the paper cup out wide. We ended up with big, flat cuppies, hehehe. But the texture and taste were there!
I also baked some in the mini oven, which was a bit of a mission because I had to turn the thermostat up and down so the cuppies wouldn't burn. I made on the chocolate butter icing in the meanwhile.
While we were waiting for the cakes to cool down the kids set up a party table with sweets, chips, cold drinks and biscuits. It's amazing how excited they were just to get the party started. The looks on their faces said it all! A reminder to all of us who take these little things for granted!
Everyone gathered in the living room. Once all the children were settled down, AH asked the birthday boy to stand up and everyone joined in singing him a happy birthday. Now they could get down to the nitty gritty, EATING! The children concurred that the cuppies tasted YUMMEH! The look of accomplishment on their faces was enough to make me realize that I had to come back and do some baking activities with them at least twice a month.
It was then that A and AH started talking of some of the children's circumstances and how they came to be residents at the foster home. My apprehension returned with a vengeance! As I sat there listening to AH recount the horrendous stories (I shall not divulge any stories here as they were told in confidence and I feel that our society has become desensitized by all the reports in the media. Sad to say that abuse has become an every day occurrence!) my mind struggled to comprehend what was being relayed.
Oh God, how I fought the tears burning my lids, but I could not relent. I personally know so many females who have been victims of molestation or sexual abuse and each one had a different way of dealing with the humiliation and degradation. Most, if not all of them had suffered at the hands of a family member.
Twenty years ago these tales were not spoken of because it was a taboo subject. Victims were not afforded support, the deed was never spoken of and everything was swept under the carpet so to speak.
On one occasion I happened to be present when a family member confronted her daughter's abuser. He was a minor (16 years old) at the time, so his parents were present as well. The reaction of the boy's mother eluded to the mentality of yesteryear.
Her words: "If it were my daughter, I would have said nothing!" I had to restrain myself from reacting in a very physical way!
The questions I ask is: 'Where does it end??'
How many more children are to suffer??
Is this the sign of things to come??
Is it going to get worse before it gets better??
Do we realize what kind of legacy we're leaving behind for the next generation??
What scares me most is that we are supposed to be evolving as a specie, yet everywhere are signs of the times of Jaahiliyah??
That afternoon as I left the children behind to go home, my mind wandered endlessly. A and MS helped me carry the baking apparatus to my door. I greeted and hugged them before they made their way to their respective homes.
As I closed the door behind me, I finally relented to the tears.........
I cried for the children's pain...... I cried for the innocence lost......... and I cried for the many more who are still to suffer!
MAY ALLAH PROTECT THEM ALL!