The other day I stood in the playground waiting for my son, when the mum I was chatting to said, "You're always so confident, I can't imagine anything would ever throw you." As we chatted I thought she just doesn't know what the last few years have been like. Let me explain……..

"Teenage moods early", that's what one mum said to me about my awkward 9 year old. Perhaps she was overtired, heading for some illness or being bullied at school. Alice had always been bright and happy, willing to help, lovely. Then for over three weeks she had been different. She was sometimes sullen, cross and complained of headaches, and my friends began to notice. When she woke with another headache I decided to keep her off school. It wouldn't do any harm, I thought, we could make bread, take time to chat, watch "Anne of Green Gables" a favourite video of ours. The whole day passed. Alice didn't "chat". The plan had failed and by bedtime I was still mystified as to what was wrong.

I sat on her bed and asked her what was wrong. She looked very sad and told me I could do nothing to help, it was too big a problem. I explained that it would help to talk about it, even if I couldn't help (thinking, "I knew she was being bullied, I'll be straight in her school tomorrow").

I can't remember the exact words she used something about while we'd been away she and X had played "touching" each other in naughty places.

My emotions felt numb outwardly I couldn't show my horror, inwardly I struggled. I listened, she sobbed. We talked about it - yes, it was naughty; nearly an hour later I came downstairs, we'd had our "chat" and prayed to Jesus about it.

My husband and I talked in whispers. Living in an open plan house meant the children could easily hear us. We decided the best thing to do was phone the family concerned, a lovely, generous Christian family, with whom we had spent several days over half-term. The next morning I had the unenviable task of telling the boy's mum. Through tears she kept apologising and said she would talk to her son. When she rang back, saying he didn't seem to remember it - after all they were only children we agreed not to tell anyone. It would be best to forget it, keep it secret, put it down to children's inquisitiveness.

Life would be OK now. After all, my husband and I both came from solidly Christian backgrounds. We had family members who were church leaders and professional people. Surely we should be able to take things in our stride.

Three months passed. Another school holiday came and we were going to visit relatives up north. My husband and I thought it would be good to pop in on the way home and say "Hi" to our friends, just stay one night and show them there were no hard feelings.

We were wrong, our lovely daughter became awkward, moody and very "clingy" to me; it was very embarrassing. The headaches returned and she began to have trouble sleeping but we couldn't change our plans. Anyhow, we thought it wouldn't harm her to see "him" again, but at their house she stuck to me like a limpet, we apologised and went home after a night of little sleep.

From that time on things were different. Alice wanted to talk, tell me what they had done, most nights she would tell me more where they had touched each other, what they had called their "secret" (it turned out that when we had stayed the night X had used the secret word and said he'd come in when we were asleep!) No wonder she wouldn't sleep that night. All this time no one knew. It was very difficult. I decided to talk to my pastor's wife- then felt embarrassed. It would pass, I reassured her. But life became more difficult. Alice was happy to go to school but at home she shadowed me. (It was about this time that "Dunblane" happened; that worried her). I couldn't go to evening meetings at church, homegroups were out - she'd be so upset if I left her.

Other things upset her. She refused to change in a family changing room in case she saw her dad and brother's "private bits". Headaches came often. Children she had grown up with she refused to play with, around friends' houses she stayed with me and would not go out and play. It was difficult to find enough excuses. I felt I was being suffocated by all these things, unable to share the "secret" for the sake of my daughter.

I knew she (and I) needed professional help when she started rituals like turning all her dolls and soft toys on their sides, not letting them touch each other.

I had the idea of talking to my GP on my own, seeking an opinion to see if I was being over anxious. The guilt I felt was enormous. To tell this secret was not going to be easy. Christians, I felt, should not have these problems - how could I talk to a non-Christian GP about it - that worried me. I made an appointment and prayed it would be OK. The day came. I arrived at the surgery 15 minutes early. I needed time to think. I had been thinking how to say it all week.

The GP practice is very busy, but when I arrived I was the only patient there. The receptionist took my name and told me although I was third the first patient hadn't turned up and the second had cancelled so I could go straight in. I had prayed I wouldn't be pressured by time perhaps God didn't mind? Anyhow I didn't have time to think and it was 25 minutes before the next appointment, so I knocked and went in.

When I sat down I found it hard to know what to say. My GP gave me his full attention I remember he turned his computer screen away from him, pulled out his chair and listened.

At last I had found someone who understood. He listened while I explained and then he told me how privileged I was because my daughter had told me. Many children, he explained, keep these secrets until adulthood and it lies dormant until something triggers it off. Many things he said made sense. He told me that often they blame someone else (because of their guilty feelings). I hadn't told him everything because I wanted to judge his reaction but I had been told by Alice it was my fault because I hadn't stopped them I was feeling very guilty. He agreed she needed help and said he would contact Social Services when Alice was ready. He felt I needed to explain to her that I felt out of my depth and there were people who could help her with her feelings. Once he got a message from me he would sort out a counsellor and, of course, it would be kept confidential.

I came out of the surgery with a lighter heart I thought I would sob through it and I hadn't - I felt relieved. The next time Alice started one of our bedtime chats I explained to her about counsellors, etc. I didn't tell her about my visit to the GP. Funnily enough, she was quite happy to talk to someone who was anonymous so I contacted my GP, looking forward to getting her special help.

Throughout this time my only lifeline had been my pastor's wife. She had been sensitive and kind. I confided in her that I had been to the doctor and that he felt Alice needed professional help. She then mentioned the CCPAS and wondered if they could help (I didn't know she had already been in contact with them).

Things didn't go as my GP had planned. Social Services had a seven month waiting list. I mentioned the CCPAS and he agreed for us to ask them if they could see Alice and felt their Christian values would suit her because he knew we were Christians. He said he'd pay a benefit from GP fund-holding. CCPAS were able to see us the following week.

Later I realised how busy they are and was grateful to them for changing their timetable to fit her in at such short notice.

As Alice and I drove to Dartford - quite a distance I had a peace. I knew it felt right. We were greeted warmly and made to feel special. Pauline was very kind and sensitive and made herself available for me to contact her if I needed to. The first few weeks were difficult. Alice swung with her moods she became angry and difficult. I would phone Pauline for advice; often there would be quite simple solutions to "mega" problems.

Weekly visits turned to fortnightly, then monthly. Gradually Alice recovered. She became more confident and happy again. What Alice and Pauline talked about I didn't want to know but it was a relief to have someone else answer her questions.

There were funny moments too. At a church picnic children were having water fights. One of the dads grabbed Alice and tipped water over her - she shouted NO to his surprise. It turned out Pauline and Alice had been reading the "It's OK to say NO" book.

Towards the end of this time Pauline invited my husband and I to meet with herself and her husband, David, to chat. I haven't mentioned my husband much because he felt hurt that Alice wouldn't share with him. His way of dealing with it was to go to every church meeting available because it helped him - anyhow, I couldn't go because Alice wouldn't let me! Anyway, we met David and Pauline and just shared I felt fed up because he would not take responsibility and he felt hurt that I would not let him! As we talked, David and Pauline guided us to see both sides and we came away a stronger couple.

Alice was getting back to normal and I thought great, life would be OK now but suddenly my life seemed to change. I had been so busy sorting out Alice's problems that now she was OK I felt odd.

Towards the end of our visits to Dartford, Pauline had encouraged me to share this "secret" with a few trusted friends who I could trust. I did, through many tears. I told them about the past year. It helped and they have never told anyone, and have been helpful in practical ways, but I still found it hard.

My spiritual life, my walk with Jesus had been forgotten. I felt betrayed and angry. Feelings I had never felt before why had it happened? I was confused. I found it very hard to go to church - the pain inside me became physical; the sadness I felt I had to fight because it always came in worship. Sometimes I felt like telling the whole church. If Alice had been terminally ill everyone would have known and prayed for us. I was alone and couldn't find God (and sometimes I didn't want to). At times I wept at home alone. Gradually I have come to accept what happened - it could have been worse.

My husband and I are more open with each other and have a stronger relationship. We are not so naïve anymore, and are very aware of our children's safety. I have had to grow up. Perhaps it has made me a better listener, less quick to judge others, less quick to advise. My walk with Jesus is getting better. I can hear His voice again - I still struggle in worship sometimes but life is much better.

I like the "footprints" poem because looking back I can see Jesus was carrying me I wasn't alone, just the little things like visiting the GP; someone in our church paying for us to have a holiday; Jesus didn't leave me. I have a sense of peace again and the anger has gone.

As for Alice, she is a very happy, confident child. She shares any worries and is very bright and bubbly and loves to express herself in poems. To her "it" is a distant memory, thanks to Pauline.

If I could, I would thank all those helped by name to all you pastors and wives, counsellors, GPs and friends who help people like us a big Thank You, but I have to remain anonymous for the sake of Alice and keep it secret.

Many parents assume that if something was happening to a child then they would tell. Sadly, the facts are that few children tell their parents of abuse. In any event, if we have not taught our children personal boundaries, how are they supposed to know if they are being abused, or whether what this trusted person is doing is OK?

We believe that much abuse can be prevented and children helped to tell when something happens if we teach personal safety skills. (See further on in this publication.). The organisation, Kidscape, also produce a lot of very helpful literature which can be used with children of all ages. Please go to our website shop for resources and Help Booklets.

 

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