Christina Pelayo's Page

“The first peace, which is the most important, is that which comes within the souls of people when they realize their relationship, their oneness with the universe and all its powers, and when they realize that at the center of the universe dwells the great spirit, and that this center is really everywhere, it is within each of us”. Black Elk

When we speak to students and parents about the murders of our children, I share these words I wrote to the killers of my daughter. Sometimes I can’t finish reading it, it hurts. Sometimes I’ll ask the students to read it, and like me they never make it through. The strongest come forward to read. We see them weaken and pull back, allowing another student to finish. It becomes quiet, and sad. We hug, we talk and I listen to them. They feel this pain because they are living it. We need to let them talk and express. And we need to pay attention and listen.
ANNA TERESA PELAYO

NOV. 2, 1984 - DEC. 29, 1997
To the murderers of my daughter,
by Christina Pelayo

No Greater Pain; Than A Mothers Pain.
With tears and a broken heart I write these words to the murderers of my daughter.

My Anna was just 13 years old.
Who are you? Why did you murder my daughter so cold?
I did not know you, you did not know me.
I cannot let this be.

I’m told you were gang bangers, with no love or respect.
I’m told you hurt Anna badly, shooting her in the head.
Do you wear her murder like a badge of honor and fame?
Do your families and friends admire your games?
Why are you so full of hate? I cannot contemplate.

How did you shoot her? How did she plea for her life?
Do you relive it over and over in your heads at night?
In your madness you threw her from a car;
leaving her to die alone on a snowy country road.
I cannot understand. I cry and yell in pain.
Why do we have to suffer for your hearts ugly stains?

I wonder if you have children, If you see my daughter in their eyes.
Is your heart heavy with guilt or full of pride?
Do your Mothers, your families know what you did?
Are you hiding like cowards, inside your own heads?

Each morning I hear my Anna's voice.
At night the memories never leave. I have no choice.
In my dreams she asks me, why Mommy was it my life they had to take?
I have no answer, except they are full of hate.

When I see children playing, I see my Anna’s face.
She loved to sing and dance, to swim, bike, and bake.
She dreamed of flying and science, and loved to read.
Anna’s favorite color was purple, and she loved TV.
She didn’t like silence, she lived for every day.
Why did you kill her? You had no right to take her away.

I lay on the grass, where she is buried now,
Looking up at the clouds and wondering how,
How do I continue day after day?
When my baby Anna can no longer play.

Anna was more than the girl murdered by gangs.
She was a granddaughter, a sister, a niece, cousin, and friend.
She was my loving daughter Anna, till the very end.

You had no right to take her away,
This is Anna’s Mother’s pain.

Now we can only dance in Mommy’s dreams