Comments and Poems
By Ruth R. Martin
One Sunday morning a deacon came to my pastor husband and I and
reported an unfortunate thing that had occurred the night before and had
been printed in the morning paper. A young girl had been arrested for
disorderly conduct in a bar and for resisting arrest. This deacon felt
that perhaps we could help her in this time of trouble, so immediately
following morning worship service, we went to the jail and asked to see
her. We were granted permission, and after such wild reports of her
destructive behavior the night before, we were extremely surprised to
see entering the room where we waited, a tiny, blonde, attractive girl
of nineteen. She seemed hostile at first but gradually warmed to our
efforts at friendliness.
After speaking with her for a while, my husband left us alone so that I
might find out if she had some personal needs. I offered to call her
family, and then she spoke these words of despair and emptiness that I
have never forgotten. "It ain't no use. There ain't nobody cares."
Note : Some years later, I received in the mail
a letter containing a newspaper clipping.
Christine's body had been found by a roadside,
in a ditch, one morning following a heavy rain.
No details as to reasons for her death were given and I have never known
anything more of the matter. As I read, tears flowed freely down my
face, and I heard the echo of her then
young, empty voice..."It ain't no use. There ain't nobody cares."