He broke her glasses…he busted her nose. And now she was glaring at me as I stood on her front porch.

"You okay?" I felt entirely unnerved as I listened to another story of this couple's nightly brawls.

She let out a huff of breath, "Yeah. My kids had a neighbor girl over to spend the night. So I guess we freaked her out when we started throwing punches. My kids…well they're used to it."

I shook my head, "No kid is used to watching their parent's beat each other up."

She didn't answer. Just kept staring blankly into the street behind me.

I left angry and decided to take a break from my visits to this epicenter. Some days I can't seem to muster up the inner strength to sit in this woman's front room. Her kids cram onto the couch, each trying to sit closer to me than his or her brother or sister. Eventually they get up and we begin that all too familiar game of, "Look at me! Watch this. Look what I can do!" As if no one ever watches. It makes my heart ache. But my resolve to stay away didn't last very long. Two days. There is something in that run-down apartment that draws me.

Walking out my door, to go see the family, I made a simple prayer, God help me…I don't know what to do. It occurred to me that I should bring something to the house, as I often do. Toilet paper, Hamburger Helper, Tylenol and underwear for the kids had been my main staple of gifts. But that day I filled my pocket with bead necklaces that I had made. Not sure why…it's just what I did.

The steps of their porch were uneven and I was careful to watch my feet.

"Hi." I said taking one of the kids in my arms, "I made you something."

The mom nearly knocked me over with excitement, "What? What? What?"

Reaching into my pocket I pulled out the beads.

"This is so cool!" She held a sting of green and white beads in her hand, "It's going to match this outfit I got from the clothes room at the Catholic church."

"That's one of my favorites." And it was. I continued, "Be careful because it's not on wire or fishing line like the others. It's stung on just a piece of string."

"Right on…I'll be careful." She said thoughtfully, "I'll take it off if we start fighting."

Silence.

"So this is like your hobby?" she asked.

"Yeah, kinda. It helps me relax. Do you have any hobbies?"

"Drinking."

"Mine is better." I didn't hesitate.

"I know." she said. Her boyfriend was nursing a beer in the other room but put it down to come see what was happening. I handed him a thin necklace of bold colors.

"Yeah man, those are bad!" he said, "I found a couple crucifixes in the back alley can you put them on a necklace for me?"

"That would be nice." I smiled and nearly laughed despite myself.

"I like this one. Yeah…don't you think it looks good on me?" he stepped toward his girlfriend so she could get a good look.

"Uh-huh!" she said looking at him, "It's not girly or nothing!"

It was one of the rare times I had seen this family even standing in the same space. And then the oddest thing happened.

"Let's not pay our bill at the bar…" she said, "They'll cut us off."

"Yeah, that's a good idea. We won't drink so much." Her boyfriend added. They sounded like two little kids making plans to sleep in the backyard…but I didn't care. It was the first time I had heard anything that even resembled responsibility. They were actually standing together, with their kids, and no one was screaming, bleeding or about to throw a lamp.

And I'm sure it was a miracle. The kind where Jesus uses dirt and spit, or loaves and fishes. Surely he could use a necklace.

* all names and identifying details have been changed to protect anonymity. © Amy Beth Augustin Barlow 2003