A Heart-Wrenching Letter from Carol Christie to her son for his birthday

Hi Nancy:

Thank God for your listening ear and eyes, and for your blog, which gives me an outlet to express my thoughts at various times.  Here’s another, as we keep trying to fight the good fight:

Happy Birthday, Son.

It’s on Saturday, February 16th, and he turns 34.

He won’t hear me say it, and won’t read my words either.

I am not allowed to be in contact with him. In this age of instant communication and freedom to say (within reason) what we want to whom we want, I can’t even tell him Happy Birthday.

Of my two precious boys, he is the one who chose not to escape the clutches of the Church of Jesus Christ (Restored), and come with me when I hastily left in the spring of 2008.

He was afraid he’d burn in hell if he did.  He tried to stop me from going too, but I felt I had no choice.  I was afraid that, based on the beatings I had already endured at the hands of the Prophet, I would be killed if I stayed.

Now, it’s another birthday.  A day for me to remember vividly how blessed I felt when he came into the world.  And to feel with my every cell the torment of knowing he’s still in there, brainwashed, abused, a victim of virtual slave labour.  No chance of ever being allowed to marry.  No opportunity to exercise his brilliant mind and contribute in wholeness what he has to offer the world.  No hope of sharing his immense musical talent with anyone but the pathetic little cluster of people victimized just like him.  Made to believe that the polygamous lifestyle of the Prophet is somehow normal.  To accept without question that the word of the Prophet is the absolute word of God.

It has been a rough week, and my Son’s birthday is just part of it.  I am feeling desolate inside.  And afraid…that, after all I’ve tried to do…the story on national television, the interviews with other media, the police, childrens’ aid and others, nothing will happen.  There’s my book, due out in a few weeks.  Maybe somehow that will stir up the issue and something will  happen.  SOMETHING!  ANYTHING!

I leave yet another call on the message machine of an Ontario Provincial Police Detective.  It has not been returned.  Are they still investigating?  What happened to the follow-up interview with them I was told was coming “after the holidays”?  Which holiday did they mean”?  Christmas/New Years?  Easter? Victoria Day?  Canada Day?  Which year?

I hear of journalists, near and far, who have an interest in my story and our cause.  I reach out with my contact information.  Day after day, I wait for at least an answer or two.  The phone remains silent.

I have been chasing my Provincial MPP for weeks.  At one point, there was even a committment from his office that they would call on a given date, at a certain time.  It came and went.  I stayed home to receive the call.  Nothing.  Nothing since, either.  A high-profile former MP and one-time federal leadership candidate I met promised his time and support months ago.  Just so much gas, I guess.  He has vanished from my radar long-since.


Is anybody listening? Does anybody care?  Anyone, that is, who is in a position to make a real difference? Anyone who will have the guts to DO something, enforce the laws that are already on the books, put the criminals in jail, and make the future look the slightest bit brighter for the on-going victims of cult religion and polygamy?  In Ontario?  In B.C.?   In Colorado and Utah?   Anywhere this disease remains unchecked and flourishing?

Can anyone do something for my son?

For the love of God, wake up and….HELP!

Is there a single solid reason for hope, at the end of a really bad week?


Carol Christie,

Owen Sound,Ontario

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