Luke 8:7

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This is published by the Youth Ambassadors out of Kansas City.  Art by Davey Grant.  These are stories told by children who have lived them.

There is no reason for anyone in the United States to go hungry.

Yet we have hunger.


Many children grow up with absent or worthless parents.  Political types blame this on the rest of us instead of demanding self responsibility.  We have to have a license to drive, to get married, to own a dog.  There is no license to raise children and then neglect them.  Crime and wilful ignorance is a tax on the law abiding.
 

But poverty does not excuse risking the lives of others to steal anything.  It is more than hinted here that the rabbit is the natural prey of the carnivorous fox.  Blaming cops for dealing with violent criminals is a very old and very transparent game.


Society has no use for murderers.  Your sad story is your problem, and not ours.  But deliberately not paying your bills is a character flaw with no excuse.  You took out a student loan for that worthless degree, you pay it back.  We allow legal loan sharking, the Gambino family has nothing on corporate America, nothing.
You've been warned.


At the same time, our society allows the worst to escape punishment because the law does not care about victims.  This possum's fate may or may not be deserved, but guess who The Man will grab and punish?  This story is told ex parte.
 

The title of this is 'The Good Man'.  I cropped that out because this is a rat, both in the picture and in life.  We have no room in this world for those who hurt children, and for those who allow this kind of thing to happen.  
 

 Rats spread disease and are born predators.  It does not matter why someone is evil.  We eliminate rats and we should eliminate predators, no exceptions.  But that would bankrupt a lot of lawyers and community organizers, and we can't have that, can we?
 

I guess I grew up in a world many children in this life never see. 


Once there was a friend.
He watched me from the sky.
Maybe he never lived at all.
Maybe too much friendship made him die.

When the gang played cops and robbers in the alley,
It was my friend who told me which were which.
Now he doesn't tell me any more.
(Which team am I playing for?)

My science teacher built a telescope
To show me every answer in the end.
I stared and stared at every star for hours.
I couldn't find my friend.

Every time I stood upon a crossroads,
It made me mad to feel him watch me choose.
I'm glad there's no more spying while I play.
Still, I'm sad he went away.

He was like a kind of central-heating
In the big cold house, and that was good.
One by one I have to chop my toys now,
As firewood.
 
Game Called On Account Of Darkness, Peter Viereck.
 
I have been so very, very fortunate.

 3 Little Kittens artwork by Garth Williams.
 
 

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