The lake was quiet, calm, giving off a light breeze that teased my hair, playing with it. The birds bathed and drank the cool refreshing water, chirping softly in their happiness. Yet here I was, sitting on the grass, disturbing Nature's peace with my thoughts. Slowly, with every fresh breeze, my thoughts soothed as Nature played her lakeside song.

The grass was lush and wet from a light passing rain. The surrounding forest hummed in the light, crisp, early winter breeze, sending chills down my spine. The sun played hide and seek with the clouds as the sunlight danced on the dark blue water. In the moment, all of my cluttered, tortured thoughts flattened out, rearranging themselves. I took one more look at the area to see a snow-capped mountain, guarding Nature's sanctuary.

With the beauty to help soothe my thoughts, I closed my eyes to work through the pain. Two months ago, my sixteen-year-old daughter was viciously raped by the gang leader of Los Lobos. Mia had come home five hours later with purple bruises all over her arms, a busted lip, and a black eye. The moment she saw me she ran into my arms, a waterfall in her green eyes. I had taken her to the doctor immediately to see what damages were done.

Mia was given a sedative to calm her for an hour as the doctor told me of the situation. After Danny was done with her, he left his boys to have some 'fun', although they were not allowed to bed her. Mia had suffered a broken rib and had several fractured bones, but we were scared when we found out that she was pregnant. She immediately said that she did not want the baby, but after I told her that she was a medicated baby, she hesitantly agreed to keep the unborn child.

Now, my seventeen-year-old baby was two months pregnant and suffering. What could I do? That was what tortured me the most. The fact that I could not help my only child. Her baby boy, my first grandson, was a raped child of a dangerous gang member, and by the leader no less.

This has taught me that, as much as mothers say that they will protect their children, there is always one danger that will find them, no matter how hard we try to keep them far away from it. I opened my eyes to see Mia on my left. She gave me a small smile and leaned in for a hug.

"I'm so sorry," I cried softly. "I couldn't protect you. As much as I said that I would, I didn't."

"I know. But you tried your hardest and it taught me an early lesson in life," she consoled me.

I looked into her eyes. She surprised me. "I forgive you, Mama." Her eyes watered. I hugged her again. We spent the rest of the afternoon listening to Nature's song of tranquility, watching her life dance, even in the toughest of times.