“Put your mask on Carly,” even though she was only seven years old, Carly knew what that meant. Mommy was telling her to act as if nothing had happened, as if Daddy hadn’t hit Mommy and Mommy hadn’t cried all night. She had been afraid to go to sleep; last night was worse than most nights. She screamed once, she couldn’t help it. Daddy said if she did it again he’d be a concrete angel; she didn’t know what that meant, but Mom had been scared when she said it. She made the expressionless face she had learned to use and wondered how Mom was going to put on a mask that would cover all the bruises on her face when she took her to school.
His teacher, Mrs. Abrams was on bus duty that day. She saw the car stop and she noticed the expression on little Carly’s face as she quickly got out of the car and closed the door. She had been worried about the girl for a long time; she today she was alarmed. Carly’s mother had tried to pull away from her, but not before seeing the dark bruises and cuts on her face. She saw the look of alarm and even fear cross the woman’s face. Something terrible was going on at Carly’s house, she just knew it.
Right after attendance, she gave the class work to complete and called Carly to her desk. She saw her little legs shaking from her as she made her way to the desk and knew the reality of ‘trembling in her shoes’ from her. Her expression was fixed, showing no emotion until you looked into her eyes. She saw the tears well up; she was scared and genuinely upset. She decided to be direct, hoping that Carly would understand that she could trust her through her honest approach.
“Carly, I noticed your mother’s face was bruised and cut this morning when she left you. Did something happen at home last night? Did someone hit your mother?”
Carly seemed surprised by his words. She looked at the ground and whispered, “No, nothing.”
“Carly, I’ve been very worried about you for quite some time. I know something is going on at your house. I think you and your mother are in danger. Please be honest with me, I intend to get to the bottom of this goal.” . I won’t hurt you or your mother. Do you understand? Carly kept looking down; she shook her head indicating that she had understood.
“I’m not allowed to talk about it; my mommy said it’ll only make things worse if I do.” Tears began to fall down her face. Lady. Abrams wrapped his arms around the girl. His shoulders shook as he sobbed and sobbed, it was heartbreaking. He called the office and asked for someone to come over and watch his class while he took Carly to the nurses’ station. They needed privacy; something was terribly wrong.
Carly seemed comforted by the uniform the nurse was wearing; somehow she seemed to accept that there was help for her. Finally the sobs grew weaker and then stopped. Carly sat on a sofa, her little legs dangling, too short to even reach the floor; her teacher on one side of her nurse on the other. She finally stopped shaking.
“What is a concrete angel?” The words were spoken so softly that both adults thought they had misheard. They looked at each other; Surely they had not heard those words! She asked herself again, louder this time. “What does it mean if someone is going to be a concrete angel? I don’t want to be a concrete angel!”
The nurse spoke quietly, comforting the boy. “Carly, did someone say those words to you?” Carly started crying again. She repeated in a low voice what had happened at her house the night before, and how her father had yelled at her; “If you scream again, you’ll be a cement angel.” She told them that she was not allowed to talk to anyone about what happened in her house, that dad would kill her mom. She began to cry loudly again, obviously fearing that she had betrayed her mother.
“Carly, it’s not safe for you or your mom to be in a home where this is happening. I’m going to ask you to trust me. We’re going to talk to your mom. If she agrees to go, a temporary place.” will be found for both. If she doesn’t leave, you’ll be removed from the house until other arrangements can be made for you and hopefully her mother. We are not doing this to hurt you; we are trying to save his life. You understand?”
The girl’s voice trembled; she shook her head, indicating that she understood. The nurse held her until the social worker arrived. Carly went with her while a police officer and another social worker went to talk to her mother. Her injuries were obvious; however, she refused to press charges or leave her husband, even knowing that she had taken her daughter from him. The officer told her that the state might as well press charges without her consent.
Carly’s mother and father were dead when the officer arrived the next morning to arrest her father. It was ruled a murder-suicide. They could only assume that her father had been furious when he found out that his sick secret had come out and that he would probably be arrested. He had turned his anger against his wife; Her mangled body had been beaten almost beyond recognition. A single gunshot wound to the head had killed him.
Years later, when Carly visited her mother’s grave, she laid flowers and prayed that she would be safe now; she had never stopped hurting, maybe she never would. If her mother had left that day, they would both be alive. She stood up to leave and stared at the concrete angel on the tombstone, silently thanking Mrs. Abrams for caring enough to notice her and then insisting that she tell the truth. She had saved her life and inspired her to become a teacher who would never be afraid to insist on the truth or realize what was happening to the children in her class. Many times teachers are unknowingly the first responders saving fragile and innocent lives of those who are too weak or small to save themselves.