One of the significant problems I see with residential treatment care is the fact that the residents are socialized in a group consisting of dysfunctional children all in various states of mental, emotional, and behavioral crisis. Each new client is thrown into a tempest of "feral" kids, ones who display ineffective and quite destructive social and coping skills, ones who have little to no opportunity to observe and model appropriate interpersonal and internal skills.
And positive results are expected?
If there is a way to integrate children in residential treatment care with other children who possess and exhibit appropriate and effective social and coping skills—without unfair disruption or detriment to the lives of the "normal" kids—I would sure like to know. Perhaps some organization has run an effective program of this type somewhere out there, perhaps in my own back yard. (Perhaps a multi-staged program, the kind that would require several residential units and probably be too cost-prohibitive or complex for most facilities to run?)
Family-based therapy (rehabilitation of the children, retraining of the parents) and foster homes and various sorts of therapy, I know, can provide effective social and coping skills training. But once a child enters a residential treatment care program, it's like she joins a tribe of dysfunction. Though the program structure, rules, and limits—when implemented appropriately—provide a measure of stability and consistency, the peer framework encourages a dysfunctional social milieu, particularly when the residents are kept grouped together for the better part of each day as well as confined together in a restricted space. And especially when the kids are forced to engage in group therapy sessions (often run by professionally unqualified and inadequately trained direct care workers), where they are pushed to air their secrets and shames in front of other children, some who will use their peers' disclosures to maliciously hurt them, as well as others who chronically disrupt the groups so much that they become exercises in behavior management instead of actual therapy.
Who, anyway, could get along in such close quarters with a group of even fully "well-adjusted" people? If you are familiar with any "reality" TV shows in which a number of adults are thrown together into an artificial and confined milieu—not unlike children in residential treatment care—you've seen that the initial good will and smiles soon break down into resentments and fights. So how does anyone expect different results from distressed children?
So, now that we've defined one of the significant shortcomings of residential treatment care, what are the practical solutions? I would sure like to know.
(Another one of the problems, by the way, is a paucity of research and resources on residential treatment care—something we're trying to change through Healing Embrace. Maybe there are programs out there that implement a successful socialization aspect, but finding them is the challenge.)
Anyone out there have any answers? For the sake of children, please share them!
© 2008 David Lee Cummings / Healing Embrace
Sunday, April 13, 2008
Sunday, February 3, 2008
One Strike for Perpetrators
Regarding sexual abuse, those committing these deviant acts should be dealt with as severely as possible. Too often perpetrators are given slaps on the wrist and are then allowed to re-offend.
I say that until someone finds, or society allows, a biochemical or other effective way to control the impulses of sexual offenders, there should be a one-strike law: One strike, and the offender is in prison for life. This consequence is harsh, but why not let an offender rot away in prison—even if the offender was a victim him or herself at one time? It will prevent several to many more lives from being ruined down the road and break the cycle of perpetrators.
I know there are numerous facets to consider with locking someone away—such as the fact that the incarceration of the perpetrator could mean the loss of a parent for life. But in the greater interest of all children, it's absolutely vital to ensure that one incorrigible life is not allowed to decimate and corrupt many more innocent ones.
© 2008 David Lee Cummings / Healing Embrace
I say that until someone finds, or society allows, a biochemical or other effective way to control the impulses of sexual offenders, there should be a one-strike law: One strike, and the offender is in prison for life. This consequence is harsh, but why not let an offender rot away in prison—even if the offender was a victim him or herself at one time? It will prevent several to many more lives from being ruined down the road and break the cycle of perpetrators.
I know there are numerous facets to consider with locking someone away—such as the fact that the incarceration of the perpetrator could mean the loss of a parent for life. But in the greater interest of all children, it's absolutely vital to ensure that one incorrigible life is not allowed to decimate and corrupt many more innocent ones.
© 2008 David Lee Cummings / Healing Embrace
Let's Teach Mandatory Parenting Classes in High School
One of the things I think societies need to do to prevent child abuse is to teach all of its citizens effective parenting skills. We become parents without ever having been trained in the most common and timeless of "jobs."
Parenting simply is not easy for anyone, and many acts of abuse are done because the parent doesn't know how else to manage their child's behavior. Inflicting some form of physical punishment is therefore often levied because the parent doesn't know an alternative intervention that works. We should thus teach high school juniors and seniors, in school, what to expect as parents and how best to be parents themselves (with an emphasis on delaying parenthood until they are emotionally and financially mature enough to effectively handle the responsibility).
In fact, educational systems should also teach other life skills, such as financial aptitude, as part of the core curriculum in addition to the traditional three Rs. Our world would be a better place if we all learned to be better, more responsible people as well as literate ones.
© 2008 David Lee Cummings / Healing Embrace
Parenting simply is not easy for anyone, and many acts of abuse are done because the parent doesn't know how else to manage their child's behavior. Inflicting some form of physical punishment is therefore often levied because the parent doesn't know an alternative intervention that works. We should thus teach high school juniors and seniors, in school, what to expect as parents and how best to be parents themselves (with an emphasis on delaying parenthood until they are emotionally and financially mature enough to effectively handle the responsibility).
In fact, educational systems should also teach other life skills, such as financial aptitude, as part of the core curriculum in addition to the traditional three Rs. Our world would be a better place if we all learned to be better, more responsible people as well as literate ones.
© 2008 David Lee Cummings / Healing Embrace
Monday, January 7, 2008
Is It Ethical for RTC Staff to Subsequently Foster their RTC Clients?
Okay, this one I am absolutely compelled to post. This is an example of the kind of thinking that I believe too oft plagues those in management and clinical positions in residential treatment care (RTC) programs.
I recently had a conversation with someone who is a staff supervisor in an RTC program. We engaged in a minor debate about the appropriateness of direct care staff subsequently fostering any of the children they cared for while in RTC placement.
The super is against staff subsequently fostering their RTC clients because of these reasons:
My argument, in stark and passionate contrast, is thus:
Don't we have a moral obligation to aspire to achieve the best interests of the children we serve? It's inconceivable to me to believe that an "unfair advantage" trumps the best interests of a child in need. What a tragedy it is that this kind of thinking plagues the RTC system and prevents RTC staff from doing further good work in the world.
Anyway ... What are YOUR thoughts on this debate? I welcome any comments.
Thank you.
- David Lee Cummings
© 2008 David Lee Cummings / Healing Embrace
I recently had a conversation with someone who is a staff supervisor in an RTC program. We engaged in a minor debate about the appropriateness of direct care staff subsequently fostering any of the children they cared for while in RTC placement.
The super is against staff subsequently fostering their RTC clients because of these reasons:
- It's a conflict of interest within the agency (she did not elaborate on this point).
- It provides an unfair advantage to the staff, as foster parents, in that they can "pick and choose" who they get to foster instead of having to blindly choose an unknown child as other foster parents must do.
My argument, in stark and passionate contrast, is thus:
- If it's a conflict of interest to provide a continuum of care from RTC into a staff's home, why is it not a conflict of interest to discharge a client from an RTC program and then admit that client directly and immediately into another program (e.g., Day Treatment) run by the same agency? Isn't the "conflict of interest" argument a bit hypocritical when made by a representative of an agency that indeed does just that?
- Who cares if the staff has an unfair advantage over other foster parents in the choosing of a foster child? What is in the best interest of the child? Isn't it to be placed in a home that we know offers a significant chance for success? Or would it be better to roll the dice and place that child in an unknown commodity—and risk another Marcus Fiesel incident?
- If we truly have that child's best interest at heart, won't we choose the home we know is very safe and adequately equipped?
- Foster parents with RTC experience are undoubtedly able to provide superior care compared with foster parents that possess no to moderate fostering experience.
- Furthermore, the staff knows the child intimately and therefore knows what behaviors to expect and is prepared to address those behaviors with greater proficiency that anyone else.
- As well, children passing through the revolving door of RTC are not "typical" foster children. They usually have behaviors—often learned or exacerbated during RTC placements—that make them some of the most challenging children in the child welfare system. They usually end up in RTC because they couldn't make it in a foster home. Do we want to send them to yet another foster home very likely ill-prepared to cope with their disruptive and destructive behaviors? Or do we want to increase their chances of success by sending them to a home we know is willing and indeed able to accept, support, and love them unconditionally—flaws and all?
- Finally, one of the main reasons behind unsuccessful foster care placements is the foster child's inability to bond appropriately with his or her foster family. So, if a staff and an RTC client naturally develop a strong bond (i.e., a "kinship" bond), this should significantly increase the child's ability to adjust to and succeed in foster care if placed in that staff's home.
- Why prohibit the natural progression into that staff's home and break the bond the child has with an adult yet again, thereby fomenting more grief and loss in that child's life?
- What could be crueler than saying (even silently), "Sorry, honey, somebody safe and competent, with whom you are closely bonded, actually wants to care for you, and this person is fully capable of addressing your full range of needs and issues ... But too bad, so sad, we're not going to let it happen because that staff's deep concern for your welfare somehow falls within our ambiguous 'conflict of interest' policy" (translation: "I am disguising my own personal bias by hiding it behind a veil of disingenuous quasi-policy").
Don't we have a moral obligation to aspire to achieve the best interests of the children we serve? It's inconceivable to me to believe that an "unfair advantage" trumps the best interests of a child in need. What a tragedy it is that this kind of thinking plagues the RTC system and prevents RTC staff from doing further good work in the world.
Anyway ... What are YOUR thoughts on this debate? I welcome any comments.
Thank you.
- David Lee Cummings
© 2008 David Lee Cummings / Healing Embrace
Sunday, December 30, 2007
The Value of Direct Care Staff
What is the value of the non-clinical direct care staff in a residential treatment facility?
Think of a child whose trauma from abuse is so severe, she requires treatment in a residential facility for many months—if not years. Instead of life allowing her to just be a carefree child, she has to spend a significant amount of her childhood living in a facility that's not too far removed from a prison halfway house.
What kind of assistance would this child need to help her heal from her past and acquire the tools to enable her to have a happy, productive life going forward? Would merely a couple of hours per week or less individually with a therapist make much of a difference in her healing process? Doesn't she really need intensive, one-on-one therapy every single day?
Perhaps it is impractical to expect that a competent therapist can provide daily individual time to each of his clients in a residential treatment center. (Perhaps it's not—but that's an inquiry for another day.) In any case, if the consensus is that it is impractical for clients to receive daily individual therapy, then that's where non-clinical direct care staff (DCS) pick up the slack.
DCS interface with their clients for 40 hours per week—and often more (out of necessity, to supplement their meager wages). With so much face time with the clients, one could conclude that DCS are the most important members of a residential treatment organization, as they have the greatest direct impact on the clients.
So why, in our experience, is the training for DCS so woefully inadequate? One would think that their training regimen should focus ample time on all of the hats they have to wear in their daily duties: parent, counselor, therapist, friend, role model, psychoanalyst, and so on.
Yet, in our experience, DCS are simply thrown into the job to learn the system from, and (often bad) habits of, their coworkers. It then takes significant time—from six months to a couple of years—for a DCS to acquire the skills to be truly effective at their job. Until that point, DCS are capable of providing only a limited amount of help. And way too often they're even a detriment to the effective healing of clients as they try to employ ineffective and improper techniques.
To compound the problem, the turnover rate for DCS is extremely high. So by the time—or before—one has learned the skills to become an effective DCS, he or she will move on to another job or line of work.
Employers will throw up their hands and say there's nothing they can do about this problem. They cite the fact that many of the DCS they hire are using the job as a stepping stone to other careers.
BS! we say. In our experience, yes, this stepping-stone phenomenon is real. But only because there are other problems creating that vacuum for stepping-stoners to fill.
The number one problem is pay. The meager wages that DCS receive is not enough to attract and retain quality people. Sure, there's a paucity of funds in nonprofit business, but in our experience there can be an excess of nonessential managerial positions in a nonprofit organization eating up those scarce funds.
We've seen layers upon layers of managerial and other staff that appear to be utterly redundant—as if the nonprofit existed primarily to provide jobs rather than provide quality service to the end clients. So why not take the salaries of redundant and nonessential employees and channel this money to the DCS, who arguably provide the greatest direct value to the clients? Or spend it on capital improvements for the direct benefit of the clients themselves.
We've also seen expenditures that make little sense. It seems as if pet projects get precedence over actual, chronic needs, which consequently get neglected for years on end. We say, cut the fat and focus on the core of your organization! Feed the DCS a little better, and they will in turn better feed the clients. Or spend directly on the clients themselves. But don't get new flooring in the executive offices and vestibules when the carpeting in the clients' own milieu is filthy and worn out, as was the case at one of our former places of employment.
Another problem is the aforementioned training. This is something we've seen to be woefully inadequate among residential treatment facilities with which we've been associated. It's a shame that a 20-something kid still in or just out of school gets thrown into the arena with the "lions" and has not been properly trained on how to "tame" those lions.
The primary training we received at our DCS jobs focused on how to physically restrain an aggressive child. But we were never effectively taught how to best help that child get through emotional and behavioral crises and heal from his or her trauma. All our training did, at best, was prepare us for a worst-case, "firefighting" scenario; at worst, however, the training taught us to use a restraint as a method of disciplining a child or to enforce compliance—for we were never formally taught the verbal skills to effectively manage clients' behaviors.
Aside from how to implement a restraint, the rest of the skills were pretty much left up to the DCS to pick up on their own—on the job, with the children as the guinea pigs as the DCS struggled to figure out, over a long, chaotic, and arduous time, what works and what doesn't. (What would the APA say if therapists—which in large part DCS are—worked this way, figuring out their techniques by trial and error instead of through education and sound training?)
These children's lives are at stake. What we do for them now could make the difference between a productive life and a tragic fate down the road, such as prison, prostitution, drug abuse, or abuse of their own children. How can we take the training of DCS so lightly? In our opinion, it should be the mission of every residential treatment facility to provide world-class training to its direct care staff. If we love children, we'll do everything in our power to enable proper training of those that care for them.
Yet another problem is regard—or, a lack of it. Our experience has shown us that DCS staff are undervalued by the organizations that employ them. We already know that their wages reflect this attitude. Moreover, the concerns and ideas of DCS are chronically disregarded.
We've seen others and have personally experienced ourselves encounter this problem repeatedly. It's made us disillusioned and cynical about our jobs and employers.
Many of us enter the DCS line of work with high hopes and expectations to make a difference in the world. So, as good citizens, we point out the problems we see in the organization and make suggestions for improvement. But our concerns and good ideas go unheeded—and very, very often even unacknowledged. This is probably a problem in most organizations, but for ones in which children's lives are at stake, we think they need to hold themselves to a higher standard and genuinely listen to the "grunts" on the front lines.
Here's a real-life example of this problem. A former coworker, when she started on the job, was full of energy, enthusiasm, and brilliant ideas for things to directly benefit the clients. One of those ideas was to paint the grayish, drab, cold, institutional walls of her unit with positive sayings to immerse the kids in uplifting and encouraging thoughts throughout each day. So she submitted a written proposal to do this. But after months of "we're looking into it" and "we're just waiting for final approval" of this idea and numerous others she put forth—and at the same time while an outside financial contributor was allowed to have its employees volunteer to come in and repaint the walls of the unit—my coworker finally said to heck with it and quit her job.
This person went from being one of the best assets the organization could have ever had to becoming yet another in a long line of cynical and disgruntled employees. It's truly a tragic shame that the organization does not value its DCS more—which is ultimately to the detriment of the children.
So what's the value of the direct care staff? In our opinion, DCS are everything to an organization that serves children. No other employee spends more individual time with the clients, so no other employee is as critical to their healing.
So why do the administrators of some residential treatment facilities invest so little in their direct care staff? It's a mystery. It makes one wonder if they're so far removed from the "front lines" of child advocacy that they're satisfied with merely going through the motions of helping children—and if they actually help them, it's more by chance than design.
If we love children, we should do everything in our power to take care of them in the best manner possible. Here at Healing Embrace, we think it's everyone's moral obligation to do so.
© 2007 David Lee Cummings / Healing Embrace
Think of a child whose trauma from abuse is so severe, she requires treatment in a residential facility for many months—if not years. Instead of life allowing her to just be a carefree child, she has to spend a significant amount of her childhood living in a facility that's not too far removed from a prison halfway house.
What kind of assistance would this child need to help her heal from her past and acquire the tools to enable her to have a happy, productive life going forward? Would merely a couple of hours per week or less individually with a therapist make much of a difference in her healing process? Doesn't she really need intensive, one-on-one therapy every single day?
Perhaps it is impractical to expect that a competent therapist can provide daily individual time to each of his clients in a residential treatment center. (Perhaps it's not—but that's an inquiry for another day.) In any case, if the consensus is that it is impractical for clients to receive daily individual therapy, then that's where non-clinical direct care staff (DCS) pick up the slack.
DCS interface with their clients for 40 hours per week—and often more (out of necessity, to supplement their meager wages). With so much face time with the clients, one could conclude that DCS are the most important members of a residential treatment organization, as they have the greatest direct impact on the clients.
So why, in our experience, is the training for DCS so woefully inadequate? One would think that their training regimen should focus ample time on all of the hats they have to wear in their daily duties: parent, counselor, therapist, friend, role model, psychoanalyst, and so on.
Yet, in our experience, DCS are simply thrown into the job to learn the system from, and (often bad) habits of, their coworkers. It then takes significant time—from six months to a couple of years—for a DCS to acquire the skills to be truly effective at their job. Until that point, DCS are capable of providing only a limited amount of help. And way too often they're even a detriment to the effective healing of clients as they try to employ ineffective and improper techniques.
To compound the problem, the turnover rate for DCS is extremely high. So by the time—or before—one has learned the skills to become an effective DCS, he or she will move on to another job or line of work.
Employers will throw up their hands and say there's nothing they can do about this problem. They cite the fact that many of the DCS they hire are using the job as a stepping stone to other careers.
BS! we say. In our experience, yes, this stepping-stone phenomenon is real. But only because there are other problems creating that vacuum for stepping-stoners to fill.
The number one problem is pay. The meager wages that DCS receive is not enough to attract and retain quality people. Sure, there's a paucity of funds in nonprofit business, but in our experience there can be an excess of nonessential managerial positions in a nonprofit organization eating up those scarce funds.
We've seen layers upon layers of managerial and other staff that appear to be utterly redundant—as if the nonprofit existed primarily to provide jobs rather than provide quality service to the end clients. So why not take the salaries of redundant and nonessential employees and channel this money to the DCS, who arguably provide the greatest direct value to the clients? Or spend it on capital improvements for the direct benefit of the clients themselves.
We've also seen expenditures that make little sense. It seems as if pet projects get precedence over actual, chronic needs, which consequently get neglected for years on end. We say, cut the fat and focus on the core of your organization! Feed the DCS a little better, and they will in turn better feed the clients. Or spend directly on the clients themselves. But don't get new flooring in the executive offices and vestibules when the carpeting in the clients' own milieu is filthy and worn out, as was the case at one of our former places of employment.
Another problem is the aforementioned training. This is something we've seen to be woefully inadequate among residential treatment facilities with which we've been associated. It's a shame that a 20-something kid still in or just out of school gets thrown into the arena with the "lions" and has not been properly trained on how to "tame" those lions.
The primary training we received at our DCS jobs focused on how to physically restrain an aggressive child. But we were never effectively taught how to best help that child get through emotional and behavioral crises and heal from his or her trauma. All our training did, at best, was prepare us for a worst-case, "firefighting" scenario; at worst, however, the training taught us to use a restraint as a method of disciplining a child or to enforce compliance—for we were never formally taught the verbal skills to effectively manage clients' behaviors.
Aside from how to implement a restraint, the rest of the skills were pretty much left up to the DCS to pick up on their own—on the job, with the children as the guinea pigs as the DCS struggled to figure out, over a long, chaotic, and arduous time, what works and what doesn't. (What would the APA say if therapists—which in large part DCS are—worked this way, figuring out their techniques by trial and error instead of through education and sound training?)
These children's lives are at stake. What we do for them now could make the difference between a productive life and a tragic fate down the road, such as prison, prostitution, drug abuse, or abuse of their own children. How can we take the training of DCS so lightly? In our opinion, it should be the mission of every residential treatment facility to provide world-class training to its direct care staff. If we love children, we'll do everything in our power to enable proper training of those that care for them.
Yet another problem is regard—or, a lack of it. Our experience has shown us that DCS staff are undervalued by the organizations that employ them. We already know that their wages reflect this attitude. Moreover, the concerns and ideas of DCS are chronically disregarded.
We've seen others and have personally experienced ourselves encounter this problem repeatedly. It's made us disillusioned and cynical about our jobs and employers.
Many of us enter the DCS line of work with high hopes and expectations to make a difference in the world. So, as good citizens, we point out the problems we see in the organization and make suggestions for improvement. But our concerns and good ideas go unheeded—and very, very often even unacknowledged. This is probably a problem in most organizations, but for ones in which children's lives are at stake, we think they need to hold themselves to a higher standard and genuinely listen to the "grunts" on the front lines.
Here's a real-life example of this problem. A former coworker, when she started on the job, was full of energy, enthusiasm, and brilliant ideas for things to directly benefit the clients. One of those ideas was to paint the grayish, drab, cold, institutional walls of her unit with positive sayings to immerse the kids in uplifting and encouraging thoughts throughout each day. So she submitted a written proposal to do this. But after months of "we're looking into it" and "we're just waiting for final approval" of this idea and numerous others she put forth—and at the same time while an outside financial contributor was allowed to have its employees volunteer to come in and repaint the walls of the unit—my coworker finally said to heck with it and quit her job.
This person went from being one of the best assets the organization could have ever had to becoming yet another in a long line of cynical and disgruntled employees. It's truly a tragic shame that the organization does not value its DCS more—which is ultimately to the detriment of the children.
So what's the value of the direct care staff? In our opinion, DCS are everything to an organization that serves children. No other employee spends more individual time with the clients, so no other employee is as critical to their healing.
So why do the administrators of some residential treatment facilities invest so little in their direct care staff? It's a mystery. It makes one wonder if they're so far removed from the "front lines" of child advocacy that they're satisfied with merely going through the motions of helping children—and if they actually help them, it's more by chance than design.
If we love children, we should do everything in our power to take care of them in the best manner possible. Here at Healing Embrace, we think it's everyone's moral obligation to do so.
© 2007 David Lee Cummings / Healing Embrace
Greetings from the Founder
Greetings and thank you for reading this, the inaugural entry of the Healing Embrace blog. This blog is intended to be a companion to HealingEmbrace.org, an (in-development) online resource to aid the healing process for victims of abuse and neglect.
Our mission is predicated on providing practical, experience-based assistance to victims of abuse and neglect. We aim to avoid just "going through the motions" of helping—we want to provide pragmatic help focused on real results.
It's not enough to simply set up shop, open the doors, get some grants and donations, and set up some programs that merely keep up the appearance that they help children and adults in need. (Unfortunately, we've worked for organizations who are satisfied with this method of operation.)
Nor is it in our interest to help children mainly to gratify our own impulse to save the world. (Unfortunately, we've also worked with well-intentioned people who let their own needs cloud their judgment and ability to give the clients what they actually needed.)
So, with Healing Embrace, we're attempting to establish a no-nonsense network that provides sound, practical help—for the benefit, first and foremost, of the children and adults in need. We have years of experience in direct, face-to-face interaction with children and adults in need, and we are putting this experience to optimal use.
Furthermore, we believe in telling it like it is. We intend to be critical of others—and ourselves—when warranted. So take heed when reading our material: We will hold nothing back. We like things that way, because it holds everyone accountable and demands real results.
So if you are devoted to children and appreciate the truth, then please check back often for updates to this blog, including ways in which you can help. Thank you.
All the best,
David Lee Cummings
Founder, Healing Embrace
© 2007 David Lee Cummings / Healing Embrace
Our mission is predicated on providing practical, experience-based assistance to victims of abuse and neglect. We aim to avoid just "going through the motions" of helping—we want to provide pragmatic help focused on real results.
It's not enough to simply set up shop, open the doors, get some grants and donations, and set up some programs that merely keep up the appearance that they help children and adults in need. (Unfortunately, we've worked for organizations who are satisfied with this method of operation.)
Nor is it in our interest to help children mainly to gratify our own impulse to save the world. (Unfortunately, we've also worked with well-intentioned people who let their own needs cloud their judgment and ability to give the clients what they actually needed.)
So, with Healing Embrace, we're attempting to establish a no-nonsense network that provides sound, practical help—for the benefit, first and foremost, of the children and adults in need. We have years of experience in direct, face-to-face interaction with children and adults in need, and we are putting this experience to optimal use.
Furthermore, we believe in telling it like it is. We intend to be critical of others—and ourselves—when warranted. So take heed when reading our material: We will hold nothing back. We like things that way, because it holds everyone accountable and demands real results.
So if you are devoted to children and appreciate the truth, then please check back often for updates to this blog, including ways in which you can help. Thank you.
All the best,
David Lee Cummings
Founder, Healing Embrace
© 2007 David Lee Cummings / Healing Embrace
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