There was a
familiarity as Anne walked into the room, she had been here, at this place so many times
in the past, the only thing different between this room and all the others was
the colors on the wall and the child sitting at the small table. She stood there and watched for a moment,
observing the little one in front of her, searching the room for something,
anything that she could use to connect with this baby. She knew that each of these children was
different, and yet somehow they were, sadly, all the same. And so she watched as the child picked up one
crayon after another, drawing on the large sheet of paper in front of her, the
look of loneliness and isolation on the face of the child would be like all the
others before her, and it would forever haunt Anne.
She knew
this child, for the child had grown on her and in her for years, Anne guessed
this one to be about six years old, younger than some of the others and yet
wiser; more importantly, Anne knew she was emotionally bruised. It was all about the intervention now, not
changing the past but instead trying to heal it and bring brightness into the
future, connecting with this little one would be the first step to ensuring
that her little light would stay lit. Connection
would be the first step of a journey that Anne would attempt to walk with her,
to serve as her guide and to be a protector in a system rife with negativity
and controversy.
Anne took a
step forward, not towards the child, but towards a chalk board on one side of
the room. Knowing that she wasn’t an
artist herself, but that she had amused her own child with whimsical drawings
of pretend animals her child had created in her imagination, Anne began to draw
a Zebrapotamus on the chalk board, not paying any attention to the child behind
her. Her drawing became a quasi-jungle
of Monktigers, Girrafapos and other crazy looking animals. As she continued to fill in the chalk board
Anne heard the chair the little one had been sitting in slide across the wood
floor and she decided to put a big yellow sun into her drawing. It was symbolic to her, it was the child’s first
step away from the artwork she herself had been creating and Anne saw that as a
possibility of a brighter future for this child.
Anne
continue to draw on the board, not looking back but patiently waiting for the
child to reach out to her, not speaking, but waiting for the little one to
utter the first words in the room absent of any noise other than chalk hitting
the board. It took several moments of
the child just standing there watching before she spoke; moments that seemed like an eternity for Anne,
for her heart was aching for this one, this little one that had suffered so
much at the hands of an adult. The first
words from the child were curious and pensive; Anne heard them in her voice
when she asked if she too could draw on the board. With a lighthearted affirmation Anne said, “Sure,
you can but first you have to tell me your name.” The little girl looked up at Anne and said, “Sunny”,
drawing it out as any good Southerner would.
Anne smiled at her and reached her chalk covered hand down to shake that
of the little girl, “Well Sunny, I’m Anne and I am very happy to meet you. Shall we finish this picture?” And with that the little girl who had
isolated herself at the table began to drawn on the chalk board.
The two
blonde hair beauties stayed there drawing for a while, finally finishing their
drawing of a whimsical land where animals could be whatever you wanted them to
be and an imagination was all you needed to see them. They both looked at the creation and smiled
at each other, Anne because she knew that she had connected with Sunny and
Sunny because she saw in Anne something that she had never known; safety. Anne looked at the little one and asked if
she was hungry, mentioning that she had herself forgotten lunch and was
starving. Sunny looked up at her and shook
her head affirmatively. “Hmmmm, I love
peperoni pizza, do you?” Anne queried.
Again the little girl nodded, only this time her response had a more
zealous affirmative reaction, with that Anne ordered up a pizza from her
favorite local shop.
As they sat
and ate the little girl began to open up, talking first about herself and the
things that she liked, her drawings, and bonding with her new friend. Anne reached over touching and tussling Sunny’s
curly blonde locks and smiled at her. Anne was reassured that the child had not
pulled away or winced at the touch, it meant there was hope. Anne’s
smile always carried such a warm embrace because it came from the heart, it was
genuine and honest and it served her well when dealing with children like
Sunny, for her smile assured them that she was there to help them. And it was through this smile, her patience
and understanding, which was at the very core of Anne’s being, that Sunny had
allowed Anne to get close enough to help her.
But Anne knew that getting close enough to help was on the first step in
a long journey, that healing from abuse was a life-long process, one that began
with a connection with another human on a purely innocent and safe level, but one
that would require continual work on the part of the child as she grew into an
adult. Anne knew, for these children
were a part of her, protecting them and keeping them safe would be forever a
part of who she was and that she would be their light in the darkness, a place
for them to call home.
“A child
that walks in the darkness can only see the light through the purest of love
and will only be shielded from the storm by the umbrella of a giving heart.” (me 2012)
No comments:
Post a Comment