Article November 17, 1997 Issue

The ladder out of despair

Pamela Joy Sampson Bissell

There I was driving down a country road in my old Volkswagen Beetle with my two little girls in the back seat (so they wouldn't see me crying), two paper bags of clothes in the front seat, six dollars in my pocket, and no place to go. We were homeless. I came to an intersection and stopped—and didn't know which way to turn.

I had just left an abusive marriage. There had been physical and verbal abuse for many years. I felt exhausted, hurt, confused, and very depressed. The huge responsibility of raising these children alone swept over me. I felt I wasn't capable of even taking care of myself anymore.

Sometimes it seems as if life is a maze—you know, a winding, intricate, and confusing pathway that has tall hedges on either side of it. That day I felt like sitting in a corner next to that hedge and just crying.

Send a comment to the editors

NEXT IN THIS ISSUE

Article

Can we keep a "conscious contact with God"?