Sister refuses to get help for son

Dear Annie: I am very worried about my nephew, “Charlie.” The boy is only in second grade, and already the school has twice recommended psychiatric counseling for him.

Charlie is emotionally immature, as evidenced by his strange behavior at home and elsewhere. He sometimes hides under his desk at school, crying, when he is told to do something, and often refuses to cooperate at all. He also says some very disturbing things, such as “I want to kill you,” or, “I want to tear your arms off.” What’s really creepy is that from the look in his eyes, you think he means it.

The worst part is his parents. Instead of recognizing that Charlie needs help, they punish him for getting into trouble at school. They also are quite indignant and offended that the school is recommending “a shrink” for their kid.

I’m so afraid for Charlie, but my sister and brother-in-law will not listen. What can I do to help them see that psychiatric care at his age could very well save him from serious problems in the future? – Anxious Aunt

Dear Aunt: We are worried about Charlie, too. The behavior you describe is not typical of a second-grader, and his parents’ attitude will only exacerbate the problem. The school should stop “making recommendations” and insist that Charlie be evaluated as a condition for returning to school. Since Charlie is not your child, however, there is not much you can do. Talk to your sister, calmly, and suggest that she discuss the school’s recommendations with her pediatrician, just to make sure she has no reason to be concerned. If Sis continues to disregard Charlie’s aberrant behavior, it may be time for a family intervention.

Dear Readers: Today is Memorial Day. Each and every one of us should take a moment to think about and appreciate the sacrifices made by the men and women who have served their country. In their honor, we would like to reprint this touching poem by John T. Bird of Birmingham, Ala.:

Last Monday in May

We pause to remember those who died with so much courage, so much pride.

They’ll never come back, but memories endure to remind us of freedom: fragile, pure.

We’re worthy of their sacrifice, if we pause each day not just on the last Monday in May.