Lesson In Worth

A well-known speaker started off his seminar by
holding up a $20.00 bill. In the room of 200, he asked,
"Who would like this $20 bill?"
Hands started going up.
He said, "I am going to give this $20 to one of you
but first, let me do this.
He proceeded to crumple up the $20 dollar bill.
He then asked, "Who still wants it?"
Still the hands were up in the air.
Well, he replied, "What if I do this?"
And he dropped it on the ground
and started to grind it into the floor with his shoe.
He picked it up, now crumpled and dirty.
"Now, who still wants it?"
Still the hands went into the air.


My friends, we have all learned a very valuable lesson.
No matter what I did to the money, you still wanted it
because it did not decrease in value.
It was still worth $20.
Many times in our lives,
we are dropped, crumpled, and ground into the dirt
by the decisions we make and
the circumstances that come our way.
We feel as though we are worthless.
But no matter what has happened or
what will happen, you will never lose your value.
Dirty or clean, crumpled or finely creased,
you are still priceless to those who DO LOVE you.
The worth of our lives comes not in what we do or who we know,
but by WHO WE ARE.
You are special- Don't EVER forget it."

Killer Of A Joke

A woman goes to the drugstore and asks for arsenic. "What do you want that for?" the pharmacist asks.

"I want to kill my husband," she replies. "He's having an affair with another woman."

"I can't sell you arsenic to kill your husband," says the pharmacist, "even if he is cheating."

The woman pulls out a picture of her husband with the pharmacist's wife. The druggist turns pale and replies, "Oh, I didn't realize you had a prescription."

Key To Finding The Right Guy

Stop looking for Prince Charming...Cinderella already has him.

For Us Crackpots

An elderly Chinese woman had two large pots she used to carry water from the stream to her house. Each pot hung on the ends of a pole which she carried across her neck. One of the pots had a crack in it, while the other pot was perfect and always delivered a full portion of water.

At the end of the long walk from the stream to the house, the cracked pot arrived only half full. For a full two years this went on daily, with the woman bringing home only one and a half pots of water. Of course, the perfect pot was proud of its accomplishments. But the poor cracked pot was ashamed of its own imperfection and miserable that it could only do half of what it had been made to do.

After two years of what it perceived to be bitter failure, the cracked pot spoke to the woman one day by the stream. "I am ashamed of myself, because this crack in my side causes water to leak out all the way back to your house."

The old woman smiled, "Did you notice that there are flowers on your side of the path, but not on the other pot's side? That's because I have always known about your flaw, so I planted flower seeds on your side of the path, and every day while we walk back, you water them. For two years I have been able to pick these beautiful flowers to decorate my table. Without you being just the way you are, there would not be this beauty to grace the house."

Each of us has our own unique flaw. But it's the cracks and flaws we each have that make our lives together so very interesting and rewarding. You've just got to take each person for what they are and look for the good in them.

To all my crackpot friends and family, I love you just the way you are! Have a great day and remember to smell the flowers.

Growing Old

There's no disgrace or shame in growing old. We're all doing it.

Having Kids

Okay, I love my kids but it can sometimes be overwhelming...so here is for all the single parents out there who understand these jokes:

-Having kids is like being pecked to death by a duck.

-Having kids is like installing a bowling alley in your head.

Love Is Not Fear

****People who really love you will not want you to be afraid of them.****

Archaeologist For A Husband

"An archaeologist is the best husband a woman can have; the older she gets the more interested he is in her." -Agatha Christie

God Never Promosed Rainbows Without Rain

A Battered Wife

In the beginning, I was young...he was charming. He said I was beautiful, smart, worthy of love...made me feel that way. And so we were married, joyfully, in a county courthouse.

Then came the lies...the angry words...the verbal tearing apart of my soul...Now I was ugly, disobediant, unworthy of any love, God's or man's.

Next, came the threats...I shouldn't stay, but this is my husband...I promised forever to a man and a God who I don't think love me. He says I deserve it...maybe I do. I wish I could just be what he wants...I'm alone...God, don't you hear me? Don't you love me? Rise up and defend what is yours!

Finally came the realization...I can't make this work. It's not me...it's him...I am worthy of love, God's and man's. On May 31, 2004 my heart was filled with hope and with fear now only of starting over on my own with my three boys. And so again I walked...out of that apartment in Seattle...never again to be silent...never again to choose to live with that kind of violence and pain.

God loves me...I'm His...and that is all that matters. No matter how long it takes, He will not abandon His own.

Psycho Babble

****Remember: It's better to have loved and lost than to live with a psycho the rest of your life.****

Difference In Prayers

WOMEN'S PRAYER:

Before I lay me down to sleep,
I pray for a man, who's not a creep.
One who's handsome, smart and strong.
One who loves to listen long.
One who thinks before he speaks.
When he says he'll call, he won't wait weeks.
I pray that he is gainfully employed.
When I spend his cash, he won't be annoyed.
Pulls out my chair and opens my door.
Massages my back and begs to do more.
Oh...Send me a man who'll make love to my mind.
Knows what to answer to, "How big is my behind?"
I pray that this man will love me to no end.
And never attempt to hit on my friend.
Amen.

MAN'S PRAYER:

I pray for a deaf-mute nymphomaniac with huge breasts who owns a liquor store and a boat.
Amen.

Sometimes It Feels That Way...

Sometimes it really feels that way...

The One Flaw In Women

By the time the Lord made woman, He was into his sixth day of working overtime. An angel appeared and asked, "Why are you spending so much time on this one?"

And the Lord answered, "Have you seen my spec sheet on her?""She has to be completely washable but not plastic, have over 200 moveable parts (all replaceable) and able to run on Diet Coke and leftovers. She must have a lap that can hold up to four children at one time, have a kiss that can cure anything from a scraped knee to a broken heart and she will do everything with only two hands."

The angel was astounded at the requirements. "Only two hands? No way! And that's just on the standard model? That's too much work for one day. Wait until tomorrow to finish."


"I won't," the Lord protested. "I am so close to finishing this creation that is so close to my own heart. She already heals herself when she is sick AND can work 18 hour days."

The angel moved closer and touched the woman. "But you have made her so soft, Lord."

"She is soft," the Lord agreed, "but I have also made her tough. You have no idea what she can endure or accomplish."

"Will she be able to think?", asked the angel.

The Lord replied, "Not only will she be able to think, she will be able to reason and negotiate."

The angel then noticed something, and reaching out, touched the woman's cheek. "Oops, it looks like you have a leak in this model. I told you that you were trying too put too much into this one."

"That's not a leak," the Lord corrected, "that's a tear!"

"What's the tear for?" the angel asked.

The Lord said, "The tear is her way of expressing her joy, her sorrow, her pain, her disappointment, her love, her loneliness, her grief and her pride."

The angel was impressed. "You are a genius, Lord. You thought of everything! Woman is truly amazing."

...And she is! Women have strengths that amaze men. They bear hardships and they carry burdens but they hold happiness, love and joy. They smile when they want to scream. They sing when they want to cry. They cry when they are happy and laugh when they are nervous. They fight for what they believe in. They stand up to injustice. They don't take "no" for an answer when they believe there is a better solution. They go without so their family can have. They go to the doctor with a frightened friend. They love unconditionally. They cry when their children excel and cheer when their friends get awards. They are happy when they hear about a birth or a wedding. Their hearts break when a friend dies. They grieve at the loss of a family member, yet they are strong when they think there is no strength left. They know that a hug and a kiss can heal a broken heart. Women come in all shapes, sizes and colors. They'll drive, fly, walk, run or e-mail you to show how much they care about you. The heart of a women is what makes the world keep turning. They bring joy, hope and love. They have compassion and ideals. They give moral support to their family and friends. Women have vital things to say and everything to give...

HOWEVER, IF THERE IS ONE FLAW IN WOMEN, IT IS THAT THEY FORGET THEIR WORTH!

Two Wolves

One evening an old Cherokee told his grandson about a battle that goes on inside people.

He said, "My son, the battle is between two "wolves" inside us all.

One is Evil. It is anger, envy, jealousy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt,
resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, superiority and ego.

The other is Good. It is joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence,
empathy, generosity, truth, compassion and faith."

The grandson thought about it for a minute and then asked his grandfather: "Which
wolf wins?"

The old Cherokee simply replied, "The one you feed."

Helen's Story

I am telling this story for my Aunt Helen who can't:

The Dallas Morning News 3/24/04

By Karin Shaw Anderson

In the midst of their own mourning, Sunnyvale School staffers had to put their emotions on hold this week to counsel students about the killing of a favorite teacher. More than 300 of Helen O'Neal's elementary Spanish students learned of her death on Monday, their first day back from spring break. "She was such a wonderful teacher, and it's so sad to lose her," Superintendent Seth Adams said, his voice trembling. "She had such a good heart, and her heart was so wonderful for those kids in ESL [English as a second language]. We're deeply saddened." Mrs. O'Neal, 59, was found Saturday, shot several times in her home in Peachtree Estates, a quiet neighborhood of brick homes off State Highway 78 in Sachse. She was pronounced dead at Baylor Medical Center at Garland soon after. Sachse Police Chief Richard Benedict said Mrs. O'Neal's husband, William O'Neal, reported leaving the house about 7:30 a.m. and finding the body when he returned around 12:30 p.m. Chief Benedict said that the crime could have been a home invasion but that other scenarios had not been ruled out. No suspects have been identified. The last homicide in Sachse was in 1996, when a father in the midst of a custody battle killed his daughter and himself. Mr. Adams learned of Mrs. O'Neal's slaying Sunday. "We arranged for counselors to be here Monday morning for the kids – and for us, too, for that matter," he said. "But we knew we had to break the news to the kids." Letters were sent home to give parents what little information administrators had. Howie Burkhalter, PTA president for the only school in the city of 3,500, said nothing could have prepared those who knew Mrs. O'Neal for the shock. "It's been a pretty tough hit for us," he said. "We're certainly not used to anything like this happening." The lack of information "leaves your mind wondering," he said. Teachers used discretion in deciding how much to reveal to students. "One of the sixth-grade teachers did tell some kids she had been shot, because the kids really wanted to know," Mr. Burkhalter said. "This has really hurt the kids." A friend of Mrs. O'Neal's, Jeannine Gott of Dallas, said the teacher grew up in Guatemala, the daughter of missionaries. "She was a lovely person," Ms. Gott said. Mrs. O'Neal's daughter, Evelyn Brush, said the slaying appeared to be a random act. She said the faith her mother taught her has sustained her. "We want people to know that we know where she is now, and that's helping us get through this," she said. Mrs. O'Neal began teaching around 1970 at Skyline High School in Dallas. "She had the gift of helping others, and she wanted to help people better themselves," Ms. Brush said. "Learning wasn't just for school – she taught me every day." Growing up in Guatemala fed Mrs. O'Neal's love of Latin America and its people, her daughter said. "And living in Texas, she loved knowing that her elementary kids were starting off learning Spanish so early and getting that foundation." Mr. Adams said the Sunnyvale School has been struggling to continue its routine. "It's one of those things you endure," he said. The noncredit Spanish classes taught by Mrs. O'Neal will be discontinued until a replacement teacher is brought in. Mr. Adams said foreign-language classes don't lend themselves to being led by a substitute, and it might be next year before a replacement is found. Mr. Burkhalter said the PTA planned to put word out about the need in order to find another teacher sooner. Meanwhile, the school is sorting through ideas for a tribute to Mrs. O'Neal. "We're trying to think of things we can do for her legacy," Mr. Adams said. A memorial service will be at 10 a.m. Saturday at Scofield Memorial Church, 7730 Abrams Road in Dallas. Staff writer Margarita Martin-Hidalgo contributed to this report.

The Dallas Morning News 4/13/04

By Jason Trahan

The killer has been caught: Tape led to arrest in Sachse In call with girlfriend, man told of plan to kill his wife, police say. Police say William O'Neal took great pains to cover his tracks. He wore two pairs of gloves so there would be no gun residue on his hands. He changed shirts to disguise himself. He thought he had not one, but a whole team of alibis: bicyclists with whom he had been riding when he slipped away and, according to Sachse police, killed Helen O'Neal, his wife of 29 years, the morning of March 20. But what landed Mr. O'Neal in jail last weekend were his own words, recorded from telephone conversations with the woman whom he'd been seeing behind his wife's back, according to an arrest warrant. "Without help, it would have taken us a long time to solve this one," Sachse Police Chief Richard Benedict said. "This has shocked our community. It's been our No. 1 priority for the last three weeks." Mr. O'Neal, 69, was being held Monday at the geriatric section of the county jail in lieu of $1 million bail. He is charged with murder in the shooting death of his 59-year-old wife. Sachse police arrested him Saturday shortly after following him to a culvert where they say he had just retrieved a .22-caliber pistol believed to have been used in his wife's shooting. Mr. O'Neal declined an interview request Monday, jail officials said. Records show he has no attorney. Mrs. O'Neal's daughter, reached Monday in Tennessee, declined to comment. Neighbor Marialice Davis said she was relieved that police had made an arrest in the city's first slaying since October 1996. "Honestly, it makes us feel better because it wasn't a random act," said the 28-year-old mother of three boys. "I live four houses down. When we were outside with the kids, we were always wondering, 'Is someone watching us?' " On March 20, Mr. O'Neal called 911 and told police he had found his wife, a popular Sunnyvale Spanish teacher, shot multiple times in their home in the 4800 block of Orchard Drive in Sachse's quiet Peachtree Estates off State Highway 78. Police say he said he had just returned from his usual Saturday bike ride about 12:30 p.m. He told authorities he had left the house five hours earlier and had been riding with friends until returning home. He told neighbors and police that he thought it was a home invasion. Jewelry was missing, but detectives doubted his version of events from the beginning. "When we walked in, there were inconsistencies," Chief Benedict said. "It was staged – the way drawers were arranged, the way things were positioned." Publicly, police did not refute the early speculation that a stranger had broken in and killed Mrs. O'Neal. "We couldn't prove anything at that point," Chief Benedict said. "If he did do it, and that's the story he put out, we wanted him to feel comfortable with that story." The detectives' patience paid off about a week after the slaying, according to the warrant. They made contact with a 47-year-old woman who said she had been involved with Mr. O'Neal. She told authorities that she had nothing to do with the killings and agreed to cooperate, helping police obtain taped telephone conversations and secure Mr. O'Neal's confession. She told police that Mr. O'Neal had told her while they were together that "he wished that his wife would be killed in a vehicle accident," according to the warrant. She also told police that she feared Mr. O'Neal would "retaliate against her or her family for informing the police about what he had told her." Police said that in a tape made April 8, Mr. O'Neal is heard saying that he had been "seriously planning" the murder of his wife since an encounter with his girlfriend on Feb. 21 at a motel in the 2100 block of Belt Line Road in Mesquite. The warrant states that on the tape, Mr. O'Neal revealed that he slipped away from his biking companions and went to his house about 10 a.m. the day of the slaying. His moves apparently weren't as stealthy as he'd thought. A Sachse police officer later reported seeing someone break away from a group of bikers between 9:30 a.m. and 9:45 and turn down Orchard, the couple's street. "The observation stood out to me because I found it unique that the cyclist did not stay with the group," the officer said in the warrant. Mr. O'Neal then entered through the back door, wearing two pairs of gloves. He encountered his wife in their home office and "shot her twice in the chest and then twice in the head" with a gun he had carried with him on the bike ride, the warrant said. One bullet went out the window. The warrant said he then changed shirts and rejoined the bike team on Miles Road, after hiding the gun near the roadway. He finished the bike route, ending up at the Bike Mart of Richardson. "O'Neal was happy that he had co-riders that could at least confirm that he participated in their bike ride," the warrant stated, citing the audiotape. But detectives could find no riders who remembered seeing Mr. O'Neal anywhere but at the beginning and end of the route, the warrant said. On the tapes, Mr. O'Neal described his wife "as a burden to him. ... He could never do anything right by her. ... O'Neal sounded proud about getting away with the murder, because it gave him freedom to pursue his affair," the warrant stated. According to the document, he also thought that he would benefit financially, telling his girlfriend where he had hidden his wife's jewelry. He had told police the jewelry was stolen. Detectives later found it hidden in a paint can in a backyard shed. When police pulled Mr. O'Neal over Saturday, they found a gun and other evidence inside the vehicle, officials said. Ms. Davis, the neighbor, said that she moved from Plano to smaller Sachse for the lower crime but doesn't think the town is unsafe and isn't planning on moving yet. "We do have property in Bonham," she said. "We wouldn't have a neighbor for miles. I wouldn't have to worry about people, just snakes and spiders."

The Dallas Morning News

By Matt Stiles

William O'Neal waited six months to admit the truth to his two children: He'd murdered their mother in March. Two hours after he did Friday, a jury sentenced him to life in prison for shooting and killing Helen O'Neal – his wife of 29 years – in a staged robbery at their Sachse home.

"Nothing justified what I did," said Mr. O'Neal, 70, his voice wavering as he explained that he kept the truth from loved ones. "I guess survival instinct kicked in. I was honestly grieving. I just didn't quite know what to do." The admission ended a four-day trial in state District Judge Manny Alvarez's court in which Mr. O'Neal's defense argued that others killed Mrs. O'Neal. Evelyn Brush – who testified Wednesday in her father's defense – faced Mr. O'Neal after the sentencing. Fighting back tears, she said the incident left her feeling baffled and betrayed. I've already lost one parent," said Ms. Brush, 27. "I feel like I've lost the other."

Mr. O'Neal's family had already heard him admit shooting his 59-year-old wife, a Sunnyvale teacher, four times and creating an elaborate false alibi involving a bicycle ride. Prosecutors twice played a secretly recorded tape made by his former mistress, Carla York. Initially, some believed the retired drafting teacher made the statements just to please Ms. York. "In my eight years here, I've never heard anything like that," lead prosecutor Heath Hyde said, noting Ms. York's courage in recording the tape for police. "He just went step by step. Very seldom does anyone do that."

Christ In the Courtroom 9/30/04

Email from Jennifer Speck-Green (ACU Alumni)

As written by Russell Heil

Today, I received an email from Jennifer Speck-Green (another ACU Alumni) who was present at the trial and offers this observance as she paints a picture of Christ in the courtroom. I share this with you as a testimony to the transformative power of Christ.

"When the jury was excused and the trial concluded our final prayer was answered in a mighty, mighty way. Billy, Evelyn and Aunt Carol were given the opportunity to speak to Bill from the witness stand. Beginning with Billy, the Glory of the Lord filled the room. All of them spoke of moving forward, trying to forgive, anger, betrayal and a thread of sadness that will never depart from them. All want to try and mend with Bill and no one has stopped loving him. Evelyn was beautifully well spoken, as I knew she would be and the love the Lord seasoned all she said. Aunt Carol spoke last with a grace and faith in action I will not soon forget. I will never forget her words, through tears to the man who killed her best friend and sister, the father of her dear niece and nephew.

"Bill it is not coincidence that when I awoke this morning to greet the Lord as I always do I turned to Job. 31:1-4, it says 'I made a covenant with my eyes not to look with lust upon a girl. I know full well that Almighty God sends calamity on those who do. He sees everything I do, and every step I take.' That is what has happened here. Bill the only reason I can say this is because I've walked with Lord for 50 years. Even now, in this moment I can say that I forgive you. The only reason I can say that I forgive you is because Jesus Christ reigns in my heart. I've never killed anyone, but you and I stand at the foot of the cross together Bill, and I must forgive you, because he forgave me.

The packed courtroom wept as our final prayer was answered by three of the strongest people I've ever known. Even as they are wronged, betrayed, bruised forever without their mother, sister and friend they are finding a way to forgive. Glory to God in highest!

We are all very sad. We are all still weeping. There is still a long road ahead. Evelyn is very confused and very relieved to know the truth. The healing that lies in wait will be very difficult and our hearts grieve for what is still to come. But I know that God hears us and he will answer! As Aunt Carol said, it will only be the fact that Christ reigns in their hearts and ours that we will all move forward. That peace of Christ that surpasses all understanding that will get them through what is to come, just as it has gotten them through this far. How blessed we are to call him Lord and friend. We have what we've been seeking."

Call To Compassion

-Meet people where they are
-See the reality of their plight
-Hear the cry of their heart
-Attempt to understand their pain

Word To Bystanders

If you need help knowing how to assist the abused, consider my LEA Principle:

Listen
Empathize
Assist

Individual Rights In Intimate Relationships

You have the right to:

-Have an equal say with your partner in all decisions and responsibilities related to your relationship, children, home and finances.

-Grow and explore your potential without feeling guilty, selfish or afraid.

-Have friendships with both women and men outside of your relationship with your partner.

-Express your opinions and have them given the same respect and consideration as those of your partner.

-Have and express sexual needs and desires without feeling like you are selfish, demanding or agressive.

-Have your emotional, physical and intellectual needs to be as important as the needs of your partner.

-Expect your partner to give at least 50% to resolve difficulties in your relationship.

-Hold your partner responsible for his behavior rather than assuming that responsibility yourself.

-NEVER be physically attacked or psychologically degraded by your partner and the right to terminate the relationship if either occurs.

***Expect significant behavioral changes rather than apologies and promises from your partner if a single abusive or battering incident occurs.

Not Easy But Worth It

Don't Give Up! This Too Shall Pass...

Jeremiah 29:11

This is for my sister Rhoda and my friend Chris...who give me the support and encouragement I need.

What I Believe

I have been a Christian since I was 4 years old. Through the abuse, I blamed God and felt He abandoned me. After the abuse, I realized the one to blame for the abuse was my abuser alone. He was responsible for his actions, not God.

You Are So Beautiful

We are... SURVIVORS, whether we have left the abuse or not. Every day that you suffer abuse and live makes you just as much a survivor as those who have left. Just don't give up! You are beautiful and loved. You have the power to decide your future. You are in control of your destiny. Take as long as you need but when you leave, don't look back. Hold your head high...and tell your story to all that will hear...because we can change the world!

I Got Flowers Today

I Got Flowers Today by Paulette Kelly

I got flowers today.
It wasn't my birthday or any other special day.
We had our first argument last night,
And he said a lot of cruel things that really hurt me.
I know he is sorry and didn't mean the things he said.
Because he sent me flowers today.

I got flowers today.
It wasn't our anniversary or any other special day.
Last night, he threw me into a wall and started to choke me.
It seemed like a nightmare.
I couldn't believe it was real.
I woke up this morning sore and bruised all over.
I know he must be sorry.
Because he sent me flowers today.

I got flowers today,
and it wasn't Mother's Day or any other special day.
Last night, he beat me up again.
And it was much worse than all the other times.
If I leave him, what will I do?
How will I take care of my kids?
What about money?
I'm afraid of him and scared to leave.
But I know he must be sorry.
Because he sent me flowers today.

I got flowers today,
Today was a very special day.
It was the day of my funeral.
Last night, he finally killed me.
He beat me to death.
If only I had gathered enough courage and strength to leave him,
I would not have gotten flowers...today.

What AWESOME Stands For...

AWESOME stands for Abused Women Everywhere Speak Out and Make an Example...It is for survivors to tell their story and for bystanders to give encouragement...and support.

Isn't That The Truth?

"We have women in the military but they don't put us on the front lines. They don't know if we can fight, if we can kill. I think we can. All the general has to do is walk over to the women and say 'You see the enemy over there? They say you look fat in those uniforms.'" -Elayne Boosler

Me...The Survivor.

My 3 boys...my reason for living.

My Story

Escape from abuse
Published: October 6, 2005

By KATIE WILLSON
Of the News-Register

Growing up, Rachel wore thick glasses, favored long skirts and attended private Christian schools. Romance was a foreign concept.
She had never even held hands with a boy, let alone kissed one, when she met Gabriel Bustamante in the summer of 1992. By then, she was 19.
She wasn't much for developing strong friendships with other girls, either. She tended to keep to herself and read a lot, particularly religious tracts.
Rachel had moved out of her mother's home on the Oregon Coast and into her father's home on the Florida Coast. She had completed a vocational program for travel agents and landed a job with a local resort.
She was riding the bus to work one day when the lithe, brown-eyed Colombian struck up a conversation. And she was smitten.
"I'd never had any attention before," she said. "I had such low self-esteem. I was so flattered that somebody wanted to talk to me."
Gabriel was from Bogota. He was in the country illegally, but told Rachel differently.
"He told me he was looking for a good girl to marry. That first week, he talked about wanting to marry someone like me."
---
They rode the bus together for six months straight. And through his persistent attention, a relationship developed.
They never went out on dates. He never bought her lunch, or even a soda.
But during the rides they shared, he talked of marriage. Eventually, he talked her into it.
"I look back now and feel so stupid," she said. "We didn't date or anything. But he kept insisting he wanted to be with me. He told me I was beautiful."
Rachel had dreamed of a big wedding, with her beaming in a white satin gown as her family looked on. And she had dreamed of living a storybook life afterward with a kind, loving and supportive partner.
But the reality turned out quite differently. It turned out ugly, mean, cheap and sordid.
Rachel's is a cautionary tale for sheltered and naive young women everywhere.
Look out, her story screams. All may not be as it appears.
What Gabriel actually saw in her was not a blushing young bride with whom he could build a meaningful life. What he saw was an easy ticket to a green card, marker of legal status in the United States for a foreign national.
Overprotected in childhood can mean underprotected in adulthood. That made Rachel an easy mark for a skilled manipulator like Gabriel.
---
Now Rachel finds herself living the life of an unemployed single mother in rural Yamhill County. She keeps her address private for fear he will come after her or her three boys, who have suffered with her at Gabriel's hands.
At 32, Rachel is a whole lot wiser, but also a whole lot sadder. Life has dealt her a tough hand.
She and the boys, now 10, 5 and 3, are sharing a manufactured home with her father. Unemployed, she's getting by on food stamps.
Her dad's Social Security check is covering the mortgage payment. But that won't be the case much longer, as he is dying of advanced prostate cancer.
During 11 years of a numbingly abusive marriage, her husband repeatedly told her, "You'll never survive on your own. You can't think for yourself. You're a typical American woman."
She never bought it at the time. But now she can't help wondering sometimes if he might not have been right about that.
When she finally worked up the courage to file for divorce, take the family car and flee with the children, she dreamed of a new start. She dreamed of going to college, getting a good job, giving her boys a better life.
She even harbored thoughts of starting a resource center for abused women - women like her.
Things didn't go badly for Rachel at first. Her background in travel enabled her to get on with Evergreen International Aviation - a promising start.
But being a single parent meant taking time off sometimes - like the time her three little ones all came down with strep throat one after the other. Those times added up, and eventually, she said, Evergreen let her go.
She landed a part-time job after that. But it was a big step down, and it didn't last.
---
"You're ugly. You're fat. No one else will ever want you.
"You're stupid. You can't think for yourself. You'll never make it without me."
It was a steady drumbeat during her 11-year marriage to Gabriel Bustamante. And it left her beaten and battered.
She didn't think much of herself to start with. And he worked ceaselessly to drain even that small measure of self-esteem from her.
That's a pattern that repeats itself again and again and again in the cases they see in women's shelters, according to experts in domestic violence.
The abuser seeks a victim lacking inner confidence and a healthy support system. Then he works relentlessly to keep it that way.
In Rachel's case, the first sign of trouble actually came before their marriage - but just barely.
Gabriel called her the night of March 3, 1993. He was drunk.
They were scheduled to wed the next day, a Friday, at a courthouse in Miami Beach. Paranoid, particularly when he had been drinking hard, he wanted to make sure she was going to show up.
She did - without telling her family, which would not have approved. Trying to look the part of a bride, she wore a new cream-colored dress and dressed up her hair with a French braid.
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After the ceremony, they shared a lobster dinner at a beachfront restaurant - one lobster dinner. Gabriel said he didn't have enough money for separate orders.
Back at their motel, Rachel changed into Victoria's Secret lingerie purchased just for the occasion. Never before had she donned anything so flimsy.
He grinned when she appeared from the bathroom, but it seemed more like a smirk than a smile. There were no tender kisses, no sweet endearments, no expressions of love.
Afterward, she felt frightened and alone. She feared she had made a big mistake - which, of course, she had.
He slept through most of the following day, a Saturday. She sat beside him watching TV. It wasn't the way she had imagined her honeymoon.
On Sunday, she moved into his studio apartment in Miami to set up housekeeping. She was just stepping out of the shower when a woman began banging on a window and shrieking at Gabriel.
"Tell her about the three abortions," she screamed. "Tell her you love me."
The woman said she couldn't go through with it.
Gabriel told her it was too late. He said he couldn't talk about it at the moment anyway.
"Tell her you married her for citizenship," the woman demanded.
Rachel pulled her clothes on and rushed into the front room. She arrived just as Gabriel was forcing the woman out and closing the door.
"Is it true?" she asked.
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It was, Gabriel admitted. He figured it was the only way he was going to get his family up from Colombia.
But he told her she needn't worry. He could learn to love her.
He identified the woman who had come pounding on their door as Diana, a longtime flame.
Yes, he said, she had gotten pregnant three times. And each time, she had aborted the pregnancy at his expense.
"I want out," Rachel said, breaking into sobs.
"If you leave," Gabriel told her, "nobody will ever want you. You already gave up the most important thing. You waited for marriage and now it's gone."
He certainly knew what button to push, a typical trait of abusers.
"That's what I had saved myself for," Rachel said. "I had been taught that God honors you for saving yourself, and that's what I believed.
"If I stayed with him, he told me, he could protect me from others like him - men who would take advantage of a naive girl like me. So I said I would stay."
Bad decision.
A week later, Diana joined them on the bus for their morning commute to work.
Shocked and horrified, Rachel tried to flee. But Gabriel grabbed her by the wrist and held tight.
Rachel said the two of them were all grins as they engaged in animated and intimate conversation. All the while, Diana kept fingering her necklace, a gift from Gabriel.
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With so many bad signs surfacing in such short order, why not just get out?
Advocates for abused women say victimization tends to share a key trait with alcoholism and drug addiction.
Victims can endure years of horrible abuse and still remain in denial. They don't tend to break free until they hit rock bottom, until they simply can't take it anymore.
"You think, 'Why does she stay?' " said Donna Curry, who works at McMinnville's Henderson House shelter. "I hear the same story over and over again. These are things I hear a lot."
Abusers are often suave, debonair and charming, she said. And they can spot a potential victim every time.
"They're very good at choosing their victims," Curry said. "Women who have no self-esteem, you can see it in a handshake, in body language.
"He's going to get her, marry her and move in as fast as he can, because it's easier for her to walk away if they're just dating."
Curry said any man who mentions marriage the first week of a relationship, as Gabriel did with Rachel, should cause a woman to worry. "What he's really saying is, he doesn't want you to know who he is," she said.
Deborah Cameron, executive director of the Domestic Violence Resource Center in Washington County, said it's time society stop blaming the victim for continuing to stay and start blaming the abuser for continuing to abuse.
"It's too bad the first question is, 'Why didn't she leave,' not, 'Why did he abuse her,'" Cameron said. Women with no self-esteem can easily mistake intensity for love. In reality, it's just an effort to control you."
Playing the "religion-card" is a common form of control.
"Women take marriage vows very seriously," she said. "They feel it's incumbent on them to fulfill those vows. A woman hopes things will change and he'll grow to love her."
Rachel tried to fulfill her vows, but nothing seemed to please Gabriel. It's all too familiar to battered women's advocates.
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When their first anniversary came, Gabriel bought her roses. Delighted, she took a dozen pictures to keep.
But that would be the only anniversary he recognized in 11 years.
In May 1995, Rachel gave birth to a baby boy - Gabriel Bustamante Jr.
She went into labor so quickly, doctors hadn't time to give her an epidural. And she screamed with pain.
"You're overreacting," he told her. "It's not that bad."
Afterward, Gabriel walked out without a smile, an encouraging word or even a pat on the arm.
He was angry, she learned, because the baby had scratched his face with its tiny fingernails. "He seemed to be angry at the baby about something he couldn't help," she said.
A few months later, while Rachel was breast feeding, she fell asleep and Gabriel Jr. rolled off her chest onto the floor. Angry, Gabriel called her stupid.
"He told me the baby would probably hate me for life," she said. "He told me Gabriel Jr. would probably grow up to be a psycho and it would be all my fault."
Rachel sobbed at that recollection and many more like it.
Gabriel called her dumb, dirty, ugly, stupid and stubborn. Unimportant, unlovable, uncooperative and unattractive. Fat, crazy, irrational and boring. Needy, frivolous, irresponsible and lazy.
He said she was a bad wife, a bad mother, a bad cook. A bitch, a loser, a screw-up and a schemer. Una cochina, una areputa. A child who needed discipline, a typical stupid American woman, nothing but white trash.
It took little to set him off. If she so much as heated the baby's bottle on medium instead of high - he favored high because it was quicker - he called her rebellious.
He said she couldn't care for herself, care for her children, think for herself or survive on her own. She had no class, no taste, no personality, no common sense.
No man could ever love or desire her, he said. Even God had abandoned her.
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Gabriel bought bright red lipstick and made her wear it every day.
That was the only thing he bought her. He did it, he said, because she didn't look quite as ugly in lipstick.
When he didn't buy for her, she went without - even groceries.
He filled their closets with classic Italian suits and other finery. Only the best was good enough for him.
She made do with a handful of T-shirts, a couple of pairs of jeans and three dresses, all selected by him without any input from her.
All three dresses were red and black. Her favorite color was pink, but she couldn't wear anything in pink.
He didn't like pink. He liked red and black.
Paranoid and controlling, he kept a close watch on her every move. He called her eight to 10 times a day to make sure she was where she said she would be.
She didn't know how to drive and he wouldn't let her learn. And he maintained total control of the money - hers as well as his.
Iron control is one of the hallmarks of the abuser, experts all say. And Rachel experienced years of it at her husband's hands.
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In the spring of 1996, Gabriel quit his job as a jeweler. He had decided to go into the business for himself.
They packed up and flew to Germany, because he had heard he could get cheap stones there. It was below freezing when they parked in front of a factory in Idar-Oberstein.
He took the keys and told her to wait in their rented car with Gabriel Jr. Three hours later, he still hadn't returned.
Rachel and the baby were freezing, so she walked up to the factory's employee entrance. "Once inside, I found my way to a waiting room," she said.
An employee said her husband was touring the factory. It took another hour, but at least they were warm.
When Gabriel entered the waiting room and found them, he seemed shocked. She was heartbroken to see the look of anger on his face.
"I couldn't let them know I had my family here," he snapped. "It doesn't look professional."
Back in the United States, Rachel got pregnant again. But this time, she miscarried.
"I told my husband I couldn't wait to see our baby in heaven," she recalled.
"He laughed at me and made fun of me," she said. "He told me never to mention it again. I suffered alone."
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The following winter, Rachel had finally had enough. She took Gabriel Jr. and flew to Michigan, where she landed a job with Northwest Airlines.
Soon after, Gabriel loaded a U-Haul and followed. But he said he would never forgive her for forcing him to move.
They spent the next five years in Michigan, and life there continued pretty much unchanged.
He ruled out birth control. Too expensive, he said. So Rachel twice more found herself pregnant, giving birth to two more boys.
Through her work, Rachel got free air travel. But when there wasn't enough room in coach for both of them, he moved into first class and left her behind.
They started attending a Jewish synagogue, Shema Yisrael, in Southfield. But Gabriel instructed her not to talk with any fellow parishioners or make any friends.
In fact, Rachel had no friends. Gabriel had told her female friendship contacts would expose him to temptation.
He said men were "animals who can't be trusted."
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In 2003, Gabriel became obsessed with a co-worker named Susan.
He had often spoken in vulgar sexual terms about famous women. Now he began focusing his sexual fantasies on Susan, telling Rachel all the things he imagined doing with his co-worker.
He said he loved the perfume Susan wore - Spazio Krizia.
He bought a bottle and asked Rachel to wear it. When she complied, he took to murmuring "oh Susan," imagining he was with his fantasy love rather than his wife.
Later that year, during a special event at the synagogue, Rachel dressed up in her best dress, arranged her hair just so and drew on bright red lips. "I was so sure he would notice," she said.
He did. He smiled and bent down to whisper something in Gabriel Jr.'s ear.
When they climbed into the car to go to the synagogue, Gabriel Jr. piped up, "Mommy, daddy told me to tell you that you are getting fat."
"I felt my whole world crash around me," she said. "Now he was teaching my beautiful children to put me down too."
Rachel loved Pepsi, but Gabriel refused to let her drink it - or even bring it into the house.
"Pepsi makes her fat," more than one relative recalls him saying. "She doesn't like Pepsi."
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Rachel's mother remembers visiting a few times over the years. The kitchen was devoid of even the basics - flour, sugar, seasonings, crackers.
When she and her daughter went out to shop or have lunch, her mother paid. She bought food for the family and toys for the boys.
But she said of Gabriel, "He throws away toys that are special to the boys, as a form of punishment." By her next visit, any toys she bought would be gone.
Rachel's sister, Rhoda Maciel, had the same experience.
"I stopped spending money on toys and gifts for my nephews," she said, "because I have discovered he throws them away - or sells them if they have any value. On one visit, the toy I bought for Gabriel was thrown away on the second day after my arrival."
Instead of action figures, Gabriel Jr. grew up playing with shampoo bottles. He pretended they were warriors or animals.
Even today, he keeps a collection of VO5 bottles. He has them lined up on his bedroom dresser according to color.
During the boys' early years, Gabriel insisted that Rachel spoon-feed them, make their beds and dress them.
At age 4, Gabriel Jr. didn't even know how to zip a zipper. At age 9, he still couldn't tie his own shoes.
Gabriel refused to change the babies' diapers. That irritated members of her family.
Maciel recalled a time she went to the zoo with Gabriel and Gabriel Jr. while Rachel was at work.
"He proceeded to tell me that I had forgotten to change Gabriel Jr.'s diapers," she said. "Honestly, I didn't even think about it, as I have no children of my own."
She told him he should do it. After all, it was his son.
Instead, she said, the diaper went unchanged until Rachel got home from work.
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Gabriel used to whip the boys on the back, arms and legs, with a belt as they cowered in a corner, crying.
Rachel's sister, mother and father all witnessed such incidents. Each time, Rachel promised them it wouldn't happen again.
Gabriel, who declined an interview for this story, denied that in custody proceedings associated with their divorce. But the two oldest boys said they remember such whippings all too well.
They don't remember doing anything wrong. But they remember their dad beating them with a black belt. They also remember him locking them in a dark bathroom and vowing to never let them out.
When their 10th anniversary came and went in March 2003, Rachel asked Gabriel why he stayed with her if he didn't love her.
"I've put 10 years of my life into changing you," he said. "I don't want to have to start over trying to change someone else."
Rachel tried to talk to the rabbi about problems in her marriage and home life. He said he wasn't going to get involved unless Gabriel asked him to, and she never brought it up again.
The following November, Northwest Airlines announced it was closing her office. She would have to relocate to Seattle.
She was hoping Gabriel wouldn't follow her this time, but he did. He quit his job and accompanied her west.
Rachel had to get a driver's license, because she couldn't get to and from her job in Seattle on public transit. "He drove me to the test, all the time telling me I wouldn't pass," she said.
She walked into the office, paid the fee and then broke down sobbing. The attendant told her to come back when she had collected herself.
On the way home, Gabriel told her she'd never be able to pass the test anyway. She was too stupid.
But eventually, she did.
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The following spring, Rachel got a phone call. Her aunt, Helen O'Neal, had been gunned down on March 20 in Sachse, Texas. Newspapers reported a burglar had fired the fatal shots.
"I'll bet you anything the husband did it," Gabriel told her. "You women drive men crazy."
He warned her, "Don't drive me crazy."
Rachel went to the funeral to comfort her father and her uncle William.
William didn't seem sad. He seemed bitter.
Their home had been burgled the previous year, and police had never caught the culprit. "They didn't catch him then and they won't catch him now," her uncle said.
Before flying back home, Rachel visited the O'Neal residence. As she walked through, she noticed March 20 had been starred on a wall calendar.
The notation didn't escape police attention either. They soon had a tape of William telling his mistress about shooting Helen, stealing her expensive jewelry and hiding the gun.
Two weeks later, they arrested William on a charge of first-degree murder. They said he had slipped away during a bike race, shot his wife, then returned to finish.
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At William's trial that fall, a jury deliberated less than two hours before finding him guilty. By then, fearing she would end up like Helen, Rachel had taken the children and fled to Oregon.
She eventually filed for divorce. It just became final three weeks ago.
Gabriel has since returned to Miami, but that's not far enough for her. Fearing his wrath, she has taken out a restraining order barring him from contact.
He is supposed to be making child support payments, she said. But he hasn't made any so far.
If he wants to ever see the kids again, she said, he has to take anger management, domestic violence and parenting classes. But he hasn't done any of that so far.
Gabriel did not return calls from the News-Register offering him a chance to tell his side of the story.
But in the Seattle court where the divorce and custody proceedings unfolded, he told the judge he took good care of his wife and sons. He said they never went without food or shelter, and related twice giving up good jobs to follow them.
"The Bible says that a husband is the one who has authority and occupies a position of headship in his own household," he told the judge. "What I'm asking for is respect, submission."
When women try to take control, a household becomes vulnerable to evil, he said.
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Today, Rachel lives in a quiet cul-de-sac on a quiet hill in rural Yamhill County.
She's thrown out the red and black dresses in favor of some outfits from New To You. They feature lots of pink.
Her oldest son has learned to tie his own shoes, but still prefers shampoo bottles to toys. He rocks them back and forth in his hands, imagining they're characters out of The Chocolate Factory, the Titanic or Star Wars.
Remembering the terror he felt upon being locked in a darkened bathroom, 5-year-old Michael is afraid to go into a bathroom by himself, even with the light on. Terrified of the dark, he has recurring nightmares about a devil, a killer or his daddy visiting him at night in his bedroom.
Three-year-old Daniel doesn't remember much about his dad, and maybe that's a good thing. He harbors no phobias about toys, bathrooms or darkness.
Meanwhile, Rachel continues to search the help-wanteds, looking for work.
More than anything, she wants to prove her husband wrong. She wants to prove - to her sons and to herself - that she's capable of making it on her own.

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