With God's help, tragedy won't dictate life course

"I have, thus far, abided by my worldview that it is not the falling that matters, but whether you are strong enough to rise again."

So wrote Melissa Ruggero, a former student of mine. I first heard of Melissa's childhood when we were on a debate trip her junior year of high school. Up to that point, I knew her to be an honest, moral, focused individual; I knew she had been moved to Fort Scott and placed in foster care; I knew she had tried out for FSHS cheerleader and not made it; and I knew that she worked after school at a grocery store. That was about it. As it turned out, there was far more to her story.

Two years after our conversation, Melissa graduated as an FSHS valedictorian. Her hard work resulted in her being granted a scholarship that enabled her to attend Washburn University. In one of her letters to me she wrote this: "Having the opportunity to attend college used to be a mere dream to me, but now with hard work, faith and dedication, it has become a reality." Her senior year she was homecoming queen. She graduated from law school three years later.

I asked Melissa to write her story because I knew she could inspire other hurting, young souls. I want to share with you just a portion that story:

"My interest in law began the moment I felt helpless. I was the one who was there when my siblings took their first steps or spoke their first words. I was the one who was there when they needed to be bathed, fed, groomed, and looked after. Most significantly, I was the one who was there when my mother decided that it would be amusing to watch my flesh burning while she held my arm down on the coils of the gas stove. I was the one who was there when my mother felt the need to use vacuum cleaner attachments as a useful resource to bash my head against the wall. My mother was not just an abuser of alcohol, drugs, and children. She was also an abuser of money. She was so irresponsible that she would spend the money she received from welfare checks on drugs and alcohol, rather than food, diapers, or bills. I would have to literally steal the food stamps and run to a nearby grocery store to buy food. Of course, paying the electric bill was a last priority in my mother's mind. Many times, I had to heat water so that my siblings and I could bathe. The most horrific detail is that all of what I have described to you is only a meager portion of what I actually lived.

"The most difficult time in my life was not that I had to deal with my mother's abuse. The most difficult time in my life was trying to make others see the truth. Everyone in the community knew about my mother's negligence, but by ignoring the truth it was easy for them to do nothing. There were many times when social workers would visit our home. Their visits resulted in mass repercussions. For instance, the social workers would ask us children, right in front of our mother, if she abused us. So of course, we would lie; we did not have a choice.

"Now, I have a choice. I am determined to dedicate my life to protecting those who cannot protect themselves. I do not want another child to bear the injustices once served on me. As an attorney, I believe I can make a difference. In the end, it was an attorney who helped me. As a child, I did not have a voice in the courtroom; my voice was eloquently delivered through the arguments of an attorney who will always hold a special place in my heart. Not only did he win, but also he genuinely cared about the safety and well-being of my siblings and me. In fact, he was so dedicated to our cause that he refused to accept payment of any kind. I realize I cannot save the world. But by having the chance to prevent just one child from enduring what I have endured, then I will be able to find meaning in my childhood experiences and my life."

Following her graduation from law school, Melissa became an Assistant District Attorney, specializing in child abuse cases.

Melissa came by to visit last Friday evening. As usual, she was a blessing. We spoke of how her childhood, though a personal tragedy, was the very thing that now enables her to touch lives in a very unique and powerful way.

I share Melissa's story because she touches my heart and I want her to touch yours. When I speak with Melissa I find my heart both breaking and bursting. My heart breaks when I think of all that she has had to endure, but it also bursts with pride. I am proud of what Melissa has accomplished, but I am even more proud of who she is and what she represents. Melissa is a shining example of how, with God's help, we can refuse to let tragedies dictate the courses of our lives. If I am ever tempted to feel sorry for myself when life deals me a blow, my thoughts turn to Melissa. My hope is that her story will serve you in that way as well. Then perhaps we, like Melissa, will be strong enough to rise again, no matter how many times we fall.