60
years ago, something terrible was happening to one people group.
(Taken from http://www.effect.net.au/lukastan/oz/Aborigines.htm)
“During
the early parts of Australian settlement, and even up to the 1960’s, Aborigines
were displaced and persecuted as part of Australia’s settlement, mostly by European
settlers. They were not considered human, were used as forced labour, and in
the early years of settlement could be legally killed without reason.
Attempts
were made to convert Aborigines to common European religions, which included
removing Aboriginal children from their parents to attempt to bring them up to
follow white society. These children are now referred to as the stolen
generation.”
Fred and he is 67 years old.
Thirteen
years ago, something terrible happened to him.
It took 12 hours overnight in Rails Park to hear
and understand most of this story.
Born of aboriginal descent, Freddie grew up
bitter and angry toward God. He saw men rape women,
and men cut and brand other men (or sounded
as if he had). He never married because in the aborigine culture, the women
bear the pain of child labor and the child is considered theirs. It was obvious
he grew up around alcohol and drugs daily. He
hates whites,
Christians, and women. He has seen a lot of pain and hurt. Fred’s
mother died when he was 12 from cancer, and he never knew his father. Of his 6
siblings, 4 are still alive (one died of cancer, one of a blood clot).
on a regretful night thirteen years ago (1997), he projected this pain on
someone he loved. One of his daughters sought him out in
order to introduce to him his newly born grandson. Fred was drunk and hated
this child for being of white descent (his daughter was of European
descent because Fred fell in love with her white mother). The child’s name is Kenneth. Fred didn’t want anything to do with him.
He beat him then was incarcerated for 3
years. Kenneth, who was only an infant and is 13 today, went away mentally affected
by this abuse.
Fred told his story inebriated and his words were
hard to follow. He got emotional at times, mumbled, slurred, called God and
Jesus names, pointed fingers at white men who came to bring Christianity, hated
when we laughed around him, or took too long to answer a question. In other
words, Fred was difficult and draining, yet kept coming back to talk more with
us. (And not to help, we didn’t have a “light” no matter how many times he
asked).
He is an intimidating, bitter, angry, confused, paranoid
(kept talking about “them” coming after him), and a continually rejected, hurt,
alcoholic druggie. However, his eyes channeled us into his soul. And what I saw inside broke my heart.
Sadly, Fred’s story ends there. And even though
Fred has committed some horrible things in his past, I am no better than him.
Thank God that only through His eyes, I was able to have a nonjudgmental spirit
and see the suffering in Fred’s heart. With that, please pray for Fred, and for
the generational curse from his father and brother to be broken. God Bless.
