Alrighty Then - What Next (Part 3)

All right, blog readers. Hello and a rousing good morning to you. Did you BYDWP? You must; you know.

Well, well, well, what is going to happen to Zaniah? You know, it seems like every time you have things in hand, some unforeseen trouble creeps in, doesn't it? I heard a fellow say that sometimes things happen to remind us not to get too comfortable down here; you know to tell us that this world is not our home.  At any rate, we have to keep going, don't we? That is the nature of trying to live for the Lord. He loves displays of faith, especially faith in the face of adversity, you know? Now most of us don't have things such as what happened to Zaniah to happen to us, but some people do. But, whatever happens to us, we have to keep our faith intact. And yes, I do know that those words are easier said than done. Well, enough from me right now, let's get back to Zaniah and see how she handles her storm. Umph, umph, umph! Poor little young'un.

Zaniah, Zaniah
After what you've been through
Wonder what my readers
Would have me do to you?

 

Poor little tyke
Just trying to make a life
Out of the hand that
She has been dealt
No need for anybody
To bother that little young'un
Who wouldn't hurt a fly
If you want to bother somebody
Then, hey pick me
I'm a big man and strong
And I will  dot that eye
And teach you to mind your manners
And leave hard working ladies alone.

 

Fractured eye socket
And broken nose bone
Good for little Zaniah
Hope she drove her point home
"That though small and defenseless
If attacked, I'll do my best
To leave you with a lasting
Memory of the day you chose
The wrong one to attack
For you chose a feisty little lady
Whose whole life has been
About scrapping and fighting back."

Alright my readers, digest this poem if you will. I must get to the hospital and check on Zaniah. Poor little tyke. I will give you a report on her condition at some point later in the day. I know; you are worried about her, too. But, she is a feisty little scrapper and maybe she can weather this storm. I tell you this though, Mr. Woodward said that she packed a powerful little punch; said his shin was black and blue from where she clocked him. I guess you would, too if you were fighting for your life, huh? Yep, I speck we all would hit with some strength that we didn't even know we had.

Doing What I Can, While I Can,
Alma Jones

Aside 1 - Will have the answers to questions raised by this poem as well as the one from yesterday on Saturday's blog. I am sure that you agree that we need to take care of Zaniah right now, right? Good, I am glad that we agree.

Aside 2 - Okay, I  am back from the hospital. The report on Zaniah does not look good. Apparently, she was sexually assaulted by one of the assailants. She fractured the eye socket of the second assailant and ended up breaking the nose bone of the first one who had been straddling her chest.
The doctors have put an EC device in place to prevent her becoming pregnant. She has a shattered kneecap. She is in surgery for that right now. Well, that is all I know. I will keep you posted. Whew! Poor little young'un. Well, at least she won't have to be bothered with an unwanted pregnancy.

Oh, good news of sorts. Officer Tillman called me and informed me that they caught both of the perps. They checked into the hospital with some cock-and-bull story about fighting each other. Neither could explain the type AB- blood found under their nails and on their shoes.  Stupid jerks, apparently they had changed their clothes but had forgotten about the blood specks on their shoes.