It was another cold day in January when the Alanon A.A. Support group met. Chairs in a circle and one by one, each introduced themselves and gave a summary of their life. The focus was on Carol. She told how, because of her long dependence on alcohol, her family had stopped listening to her view and to her opinions. She was no longer valued as a useful member of the family unit. Sadly she finished, "I feel as though I have no voice".
The focus then turned to the next occupied chair. A middle-aged girl slowly began to speak. "My name is Jamie and I am an addict. I understand how Carol feels because I have lost everything; my husband, my car, along with most of my personal belongings. All are now gone. And because of a careless cigarette, my home caught fire and burned also. But this blackened house is the only place that I have left to go. I have managed to hold on to one small job as a waitress. When the tables are cleared and the plates have been returned to the kitchen, I scrape all of the unwanted food into a bucket. At the end of the day, as I walk home, I stop at many houses along the way. These are the homes to lonely dogs that have been tied and forgotten in their back yards. Seldom visited by their owners, water bowls are left overturned and dry. Some do not have shelter and none are fed regularly. So, as I stop at each house to give every dog a little of the scraps from the restaurant bucket, I fill their bowls with water from the outdoor spigots. Rarely do the pet owners know, or care, that I have visited.
And, it was in each of these grown-up, run-down back yards where I came to realize that I do still have a voice. And every evening, my voice dances like sweet music to someone's waiting ears".
-Anonymous
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