Seven

Seven

He was only seven years old. Seven. What did you do when you were seven? You were probably in second grade. Expanding your reading, checking out library books for the first time. Were your days spent at school, then coming home to do homework, then play outside with your friends or family? Or maybe if you got your homework done early, you got to play a game on the computer or watch one of your favorite shows. 

But he didn't. He spent the days in a cold, dark room. Lying in a cold crib. Surrounded by the cries and moans of other children. Drugged so he was "easier to take care of". At seven years old, he weighed only 20 pounds. He wore diapers because he was left in the crib all day. He had no stimulation. No chance to walk, talk, or even move. 

He was transferred to the institution when he was four years old. He struggled on for three years, but by November of 2010, he couldn't do it anymore. 

He died on November 16, 2010. He was only seven years old. No one was there to witness it. The workers probably didn't notice until they went to feed him the next day. Then he was buried in an unmarked grave behind the mental institution he died in. 

Dakota was an orphan in Eastern Europe. He had hydrocephalus.  Most children have this corrected as an infant and go on to live a normal life. But he didn't. Because of having hydrocephalus, he was put into an adult mental institution. When he was only four years old. He went from being a normal functioning child to a frail shell of a child, who only weighed 20 pounds. He struggled to move, or even to breathe.

It's too late for Dakota. But it's not for some of the other children at his institution. Please save them before it's too late. Don't let them become a statistic. Don't let them be a nameless grave in back yard of the institution.

 

All of those children are waiting for families in the institution where Dakota died. Please, let's not let them become a statistic. For Dakota.