When my parents lived in Campbell River, my mom had befriended a young First Nations mother who worked with my older brother Bob. They both worked at the fish processing plant that was located at the bottom of Peterson Hill. Mom took her under her wing and helped her with life issues. She took many young ladies under her wing. My wife remembers my mom and how her mother would always send her down to see my mom (Dot), who would help her shop for new clothes. My mom worked at Robinson’s clothing store at the time, and many people loved her for her kind ways and friendly smile.
On my days off from Nootka Island, I was home visiting my mom. She asked me to check on a young 6-year-old girl, whom she was babysitting. She was in our backyard, and Mom just wanted me to check and see if she was OK. When I stepped out on our back porch, she was on our swing, but not swinging. Her head was down, and she was shuffling her feet on the ground. As I looked in her direction, she lifted her head, and it touched my heart with such sorrow as I have never felt before. She was such a forlorn-looking little thing; she had big doe eyes that you could see had just been shedding tears, with some still running down her cheeks. I felt a connection to this child, almost like she was someone I knew; it was quite disconcerting. As she looked up at me with those sad eyes, my heart went out to this child. Her tear-covered face was forever imprinted on my memory. It was the first time that I had felt such empathy for anyone.
For years, that image of her on my swing haunted me; those dark eyes holding back tears got to me. I walked back into the house and asked Mom what was going on. Mom then told me that her parents were divorcing in court that day, and that was why the little one looked so upset. She told me that the mom had been beaten almost to death by her dad in a drunken rage, right in front of the child, and the little one was confused, frightened and feeling lost. She had to run to the police station, which was several blocks away, to get them to come and save her mom. This child of 6 watched her mom get loaded into an ambulance and taken to the hospital with lights and sirens blaring. While her dad was put in cuffs and hauled off to jail. As my mom was narrating this story to me, she started to cry with tears running down her cheeks. My eyes may have shed a tear or two as well.
I always thought of her as the doe eyed girl.