A Day to Remember at the Zoo

This post is not about us and our lovely day today at the Zoo.
This post is not about how happy we were today and felt like the luckiest parents in the world.
This post is not about recording our second boy's first visit ever to the Zoo.
This post is not about how my husband felt like a child during the train trip at the wonderful Zoo and I was again falling in love with him, for the billionth time.
This post is not about how our sweet 5 year old boy showed courage and lots of patience during some obstacle game, meant for little older kids.

This post is for the curly haired 5 year old boy in the swing.
I could see you looking at your parents with your big, clean, curious eyes, who were sitting on a bench just 5 steps away from you.
I could hear you asking them to look at you and listen to you.
I could hear your silence.
I wondered how a 5 year old sits so calm in a swing, for a fair amount of time.
I again heard your silence yelling at your parents.
I could see your sadness and fear when your father yelled at your mother.
Even more, I could hear your pain when he hit your mother.
I could see your pain, silent look and adult specific wisdom taking over your face expression.
I know is not the first time you see him hitting her. Your expression tells stories that no kid should ever see in their family.
Yet, you are strong and after the yelling between them stops, I can hear you calling them and asking to take you away the swing.
I know you can stop and get off the swing yourself but you sit there because he told you so.

After a while we meet again on our path to Zoo.
Your mother has a swelled eyed, from a previous event.

I am trying to find ways how to react and help in case of domestic violence.
I am just a foreigner here, how can I help you?
I continued to live in my own bubble and did nothing to help you today. Have no excuse and I feel terrible.

I know domestic violence is a serious problem and that many, way too many women continue to stay in such relationships from various reasons. If your mother doesn't consider necessary to stop the violence and make the best choice for you, I am afraid situation is very hard to be monitored, or control. You cannot enter other peoples' family lives in such personal way...
Small issues might lead to more serious problems...what hunts me the most is that child's gaze.
He looked much older than he really was. A lost childhood, who accounts for that?

If any of my readers know what I could have done in such situation...I am happy to learn.

*Disclaimer: This type of behaviour is not the norm in this region, please do not understand that such violent manifestation are witnessed all day, every day. It was the only event we saw in 9 years of living in Brno. I hope you can understand my need to write about it here, in hopes that next time I will react.

I felt inside my belly our third boy kicking for the first time at the end of this article...My tears of sadness for the little boy in the swing made my unborn one kick. Is impossible when you have kids to not think about all kids in the world like they are your own.


































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