The Voice of One
Last Friday night, our town faced the loss of yet another life, due to heroin abuse. Being a small town with a population just above 13,000, each loss is personal. It's always either someone we know directly, a friend of a friend, or a relative of a friend. We shake our heads in disbelief, or mutter condolences to the families, while silently wondering who will be next- ashamed of the fact that we are grateful our own family has beat the odds this time. Just recently, our community saw five heroin related deaths in one week- those odds are beginning to stack against us.
Heroin has bulldozed it's way into the midst of our tight knit community, bringing with it the ill-effects of its use. Our jails are at full capacity because of repeat offenders, violating their probation terms. I recently brought up the web page of our county jail and was astounded at what I saw. Staring back at me were zombie-like faces- an unkempt appearance, aged beyond their years, and eyes sunken, and void of hope. These were not faces of strangers, yet were my childhood friends, past co-workers, and young people- that as friends of my children, had spent time in my home. Heroin does not discriminate its prey.
Our community has not waged war against drugs, rather drugs have waged war against us. I wonder to myself how many more senseless deaths must occur before we take a united stand to protect the town that we once lovingly called home. How many more homes must be torn apart? While I wish for more action and unity in this community, I realize it starts with one. One becomes two and so on. I can do my part by volunteering my time, using my witness and reaching out to families that are affected by this devastating disease. Kind deeds are like smiles- they are contagious.
Heroin has bulldozed it's way into the midst of our tight knit community, bringing with it the ill-effects of its use. Our jails are at full capacity because of repeat offenders, violating their probation terms. I recently brought up the web page of our county jail and was astounded at what I saw. Staring back at me were zombie-like faces- an unkempt appearance, aged beyond their years, and eyes sunken, and void of hope. These were not faces of strangers, yet were my childhood friends, past co-workers, and young people- that as friends of my children, had spent time in my home. Heroin does not discriminate its prey.
Our community has not waged war against drugs, rather drugs have waged war against us. I wonder to myself how many more senseless deaths must occur before we take a united stand to protect the town that we once lovingly called home. How many more homes must be torn apart? While I wish for more action and unity in this community, I realize it starts with one. One becomes two and so on. I can do my part by volunteering my time, using my witness and reaching out to families that are affected by this devastating disease. Kind deeds are like smiles- they are contagious.
Who will be the one voice in your community?
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