BESSIE'S STORY

Written by

Tom Grant

(Accurately based on a true life story)

The baby girl was born in relative good health but with the probability of short term withdrawal symptoms from the drugs her mother had been using. The mother's name was Cleo.  She was a crack addict. This was her fifth child.

With an overwhelming addiction, no money and no known father to help out, Cleo did what she had done with her four other children--she walked out of the hospital leaving her baby in the care of county social service workers.

The case worker later appeared somewhat nervous as she knocked on an apartment door inside a dilapidated old building.  An unattractive, heavy set woman with no front teeth opened the door and welcomed her in. The woman was Cleo's older sister.  Her name was Bessie.

Upon learning her sister had recently given birth to a baby girl, Bessie was heartsick.  After all, she had already adopted Cleo's other four children and was barely making ends meet!

The other kids were inside the apartment playing in the tiny, cluttered living room.  

"I sho dunno waz gonna happen,"  Bessie told the social worker.   "I dunno how I kin take anuda kid a hers."

 "Why did you agree to take care of Cleo's other children?" the social worker asked.

 "I taken em all cause I diden wan em to be seprated."  Bessie answered and paused as her eyes began to glisten. 

"Dey's all great kids. I loves em all," Bessie said proudly.  "Dey gonna make sometin outa demselves. Dey gonna go ta collich.  Maybe one a dem'll be a dawkor or somepin like dat.

"But we always vote bout tings here," Bessie added. "Deese kids has a say bout evertin."

The children appeared to be happy, well mannered, full of energy, but most of all, full of love. 

"We voted to keep the baby here because we want to all stay together,"  the oldest brother finally announced with a big toothy grin.

The next day, Bessie went to the hospital to visit the baby.  With her hand gently caressing the tiny girl's forehead, she stood next to the crib and prayed:

"Dear fada in heavn. We tanks you fo dis child. We dunno how we gonna take care a dis little one but we gonna do az bes we can and we gonna trus you to hep us . . .  In Jesuses name we prays, amen."

In a world where a personal worth is most often measured by appearance, physical condition, intelligence, wealth and power, many would say Bessie is a "loser."

They would say Bessie is a, "poor, ugly, stupid old fat person with no real life." 

But I have to wonder; when I come face to face with my maker, who would I rather be? 

A college professor with the intellect of Einstein?  

A billionaire with all the "stuff" I could ever want? 

A powerful and popular U.S. President?

A famous celebrity with millions of adoring fans?

      Or a "poor, ugly, stupid old fat person" . . .

with the heart of Bessie?