May this Christmas 2017 be a time of healing for this dear family that has been terrorized and left in shattered pieces by the government-funded Terrorists widely known as "Child Protection Services."
My friend, Anna, has already shared with us how this time of year has normally been a Nightmare Before Christmas.
But there is hope on the horizon. 2018 could be a year of reconciliation for this family.
And my greatest desire is that 2018 will be a year where this most evil of Child Trafficking systems begins to shatter under the weight of public revelations.
** Anna's story continues below.
** Names have been changed to protect both of our families from the very real risk of vindictive retaliation that faces anybody who reveals the dastardly deeds of these government-funded monster agents.
Anna's Family Story Part II ...
We haven't seen Benjamin, my husband's son, for years. He's a grown man with two daughters who live with him. He's had his own battle wth the beastly system ... same Team Leader/Supervisor who sanctioned Twyla's abduction, offered Ben a deal -- testify against your Dad in court, and we'll let you see your daughter! Ben agreed. That daughter is 12-years old now, and her sister is 10.
They're meeting the rest of us for the first time this year.
Suspicion -- Accusation -- Fear -- Division
They turn family members against each other. Social Workers guilt you into making statements against each other. They ply you for the negative statements and change wording just enough to skew the meaning to sound as ugly as possible.
They made Ben and his Dad enemies.
Maybe this year, God willing, we could reconcile ...
Our truck pulls into Ben's driveway just after dark. 12-yr-old Trudy opens the door just a crack, then closes it.
"They're here! They're here!" she exclaims breathlessy, hopping up and down ... We climb out of the truck, and Ben steps outside to greet us. They stand still, Father and Son, facing each other for a long moment ...
Finally, they embrace. They hold onto each other wordlessly for a long time.
I can tell my husband is weeping by how his shoulders are shaking.
He carefully composes himself and then introduces Liam, Ben's younger brother.
Liam was not quite 2 when our family was torn to pieces. Now he's almost as tall as Ben ... and Ema, Ben's youngest sister, who was born after we were all driven apart from each other.
She looks just like her older sister did when they stole her from us, when all the horror started. In fact, she's 9, the same age as Lisa was ...
They came just before Christmas. Two men; the Social Worker and the Team Leader asking questions. They had a report that all we had for food was instant noodles (easily disproven) and something about a female child "rubbing a doll on her titties."
When the Social Worker, Richard Hardcock, related this phrase, he blushed, and smirked and licked his lips.
Tell them to leave your property. No matter how reasonable they seem, they absolutely can not make money from your family unless you go with the program, whether by force or by consent. They want you to make a plan - a "Protection Plan," except that the moment you do this, you have admitted to being unfit to parent and have unknowingly given your consent. Consent is what they seek. DO NOT CONSENT!
The bonds and friendships Lisa had were systematically severed and replaced wth twisted versions: Johanna, her first foster-mom, told her we were drugging her and that's why she never remembered being abused. Cops, Counsellors, Social Workers, all interrogated her mercilesly until they felt they had extracted what they wanted.
"Okay. He's a bad, bad man," she puts her head down on her arms.
"Please, can I please go home now?"
This after a particularly grueling four-hour interrogation at a police station, was the break in her spirit they had been waiting for. Instead of letting her go home, they set about dismantling our family, one at a time.
"Your daughter has made some very serious allegations, Anna! You need to respond appropriately."
"What did she say?" I asked Richard Hardcock, the Social Worker.
"We can't tell you that," he replied.
"How can I respond appropriately if I don't know what she said? Obviously! Let me talk to her. Whatever happened, let her tell me. Oh my God! Please! Tell me! What happened to my daughter?!?!"
The Social Worker wrote in his report that I was being non-compliant; that I was protecting my husband - the perpetrator. He recommended that I get a psychiatric evaluation and a risk assessment, but did not mention drug tests.
Later he wrote a twisted, leading statement in a report to court --
"Anna's extreme weight-loss and irrational behaviour is consistent with crystal meth use."
We've got to find Lisa while we are in town. I task my older son, Joe, age 25, with the search since he knows a lot of local people ...
He phones me where I'm staying ... "Mom! I'm at the Department Store. Lisa is here with Gabriel!" ... my grandson!
Oh my heart. "I'm on my way!"
We hug. We kiss each other's faces. We don't care who is watching. I tell her how beautiful she is -- she tells me I still look the same. Both our faces are wet. My girl, my girl! Oh, I love you so much! I NEVER abandoned you! I miss you every day ...
Could it be? Could we all spend Christmas together somehow? Sharing a plate of nachos at a local restaurant, I scarecely dare to hope ...
Perhaps, God willing, maybe this year ... maybe ...?!
But the damage goes deep. As I talk with my daughter -- the one MCFD took away to "protect" -- the depth of the damage starts to show. She's on anti-anxiety medication, has a long list of foods she can't or won't eat, tells me of her episodes of night terrors
... and she blames my husband, Chuck.
She can't remember how she and her brother had asked to call him "Dad," because my children said it would be confusing to their new baby brother if they called their step-dad by his name, and besides, Lisa had said to me back then, "He's filled the empty hole in my heart where a Daddy's 'sposed to be," how she lavished kisses all over his face, or how if she pouted he'd get her brother to feed the chickens and put away the dishes instead of her.
Under the Ministry of Children and Family Development (MCFD) supervision, we weren't allowed to say anything positive about Chuck at all -- not even "remember the pancakes he made?" because that was a good memory.
"He forced us to call him Daddy. He made me kiss him if I wanted to go to my friend's house ..." and she starts recounting all the horrible things she was told that he did. Her face clouds over in rage. She is still in pain after all this time. Those three years of brainwashing surely took its toll.
He is a monster to her, and to say anything differently is still forbidden.
to be continued ...
"Write it down! Don't let your story fade away unheard, unknown!" (Anna's close friend, Hazel)
Follow @familyprotection on Steemit.
Governments around the world,
are using "Child Protection Agencies"
to take children away from loving families
and place them in foster care or group homes
or place them for adoption.
THESE FAMILIES NEED PROTECTING.
Share your own story and use the tag #familyprotection
TOGETHER LET'S STOP LEGAL KIDNAPPING
This account of TRUE events that took place 11 years ago and was written by my friend, Anna. It is the third in a series that she and I will be sharing here on Steemit with the familyprotection tag. Please share this story with others, so that we can wake people up to the atrocities being committed in our so-called civilized societies. The mainstream media will rarely broach the subject. We must expose these stories to the light of day -- and stand up as a society to stop this abuse of families and children.