No. 44 - Where is the Little Girl Now?

Forty years ago she was born to a loving mother and father. Her birth signaled a celebration of life. It represented the manifestation of love and togetherness when two consenting adults join together in intimacy, and agree to live and love forever… “until death do us part”, as it is said. The room was filled with relief, great joy, and a chorus of well-wishers from times long gone… the ancestors rejoiced.

As she developed she was inspired to believe in all that is good and gentle and kind and giving in the world. Her innocence was complete, and she stared in wonderment at the butterflies as they softly floated upon the warm air. With a cheerful giggle she would skip happily after each beautiful insect in hopes of capturing it… if only for a moment to peer at its magnificent beauty. Her heart was filled to bursting, always willing to see the goodness in those she encountered.

But then things changed. Somehow those who were given to guide her to adulthood strayed the course and lost sight of their agreement. They got caught up in their own desire and self-interests. They reasoned things would be fine, even if/when they parted, for their love for this little girl was unmatched. And so, as the story has gone countless times in our recent history, the two parted ways. And while their goal was to share equally in the upbringing and nurturing of their innocent Little Girl, life made this impossible.

Years went by and the Little Girl had grown into a young lady. Her views of the world had become colored with feelings of hurt, pain, sacrifice, hardship, and feelings of betrayal that she was not quite aware of. The giggles that had once floated upon the air and made even the birds sing in joyous response could be heard no more. The once inviting Little Girl was hardening to a life of realities she could never have imagined. And while her parents tried to consistently give her that which she needed they were unable to do so, life having caught them in its torrents.

Now she’s a young adult, anxious to be free of the constraints and hardships that have characterized her life for as long as she could remember. The memories of her innocence are lost to her as she is now hardened against the threats of the day. The connection that was once so dear to her is long gone, a distant echo in the halls of time, and - oh so - far out of reach.

She goes about creating a life for herself with the intellectual tools she’s developed, only to meet with frustration, betrayal, and more hardship. The men she allows into her sacred trust are but physical replicas of a grown man’s build, but possess the emotional development and caring of a nine year old. So few… the good men, so rare the caring, nurturing type. So difficult to find the key that will unlock her closed heart and help her to recall the abundant joy of the Little Girl she once was.

Later in life she gets married, hoping to build a sustainable life with the one man who has come “close enough” to what she thinks she needs. Things go well … for a time … and then they don’t. Questions arise regarding behaviors and tendencies that seem unusual or irrational. Words of confusion, disdain, anger, even contempt past between the two. Faith, trust, the spirit of working together (while meager and uninformed in the beginning) are now ghosts. There is nothing left to hold onto.

She stands in the door one evening, tears running down her face as she watches his back. The few belongings he could grab are hastily thrust into the car, and he is off. She stands there, not knowing what to do next, not knowing where to turn next, not knowing how to empower herself to move beyond this moment. Yet she does.

She is forty now. Her mind is set regarding men, life, relationships. She lives alone. Never had any children – she had decided long ago she never wanted any. She has lost all connection to her family and is content with that. The muscles that formed the smile that once shown brighter than the sunlight are weakened, tending only to frown.

Many a night she lies in bed struggling to keep the tears at bay.

She has occupied her mind with her job, the local news, the few friends she still maintains. Her place is well kept, neat and orderly. Her bills are paid and she lives with all the trappings of success. She looks from her balcony at the lives that past beneath her, oblivious to their stories, only wondering where they are going.

One night she has a dream. A dream so profound and impactful she jerks awake, tears running down her cheek. She sits there, knees clutched against her breasts, shaking herself for comfort, trying to sort things out. Minutes past by yet the tears do not stop. “What is going on?” she wonders… and the tears keep falling.

She gets up and goes to her balcony in these, the wee hours of the morning. The tears have finally ended even as her Spirit is now stirring into awareness.

And then the dream comes clear into her mind.

She saw an innocent Little Girl, a life filled with happiness and wonderment, standing in the midst of a beautiful butterfly field. Skipping and humming as they do, the Little Girl enjoyed a completeness so many have forgotten. But then the Little Girl stops and looks ahead, her eyes widening, as she can no longer move. Two hands grab her and shake her furiously, scattering the butterflies and flowers. She tries to scream but finds she cannot… no words escape her lips. And when the shaking stops she finds herself lost in a barren and unforgiving land, nothing as it once was. Every step she takes is fraught with danger and unknowing, and soon she wanders about in utter dismay, clothes tattered, head bent, a tremendous longing for the security and comforts of the past. The Little Girl stops and looks up.

And the lady who was dreaming sees her reflection mirrored back.

And she begins to cry again.

Post Script:
I am writing this one because I believe we are hurting our children in ways that can impact them for the rest of their lives, and we all need to think about that, talk about that, and then do something about that.

Also, the next time a man gets upset at a woman for acting in ways that seem strange to him, he should ask himself a question: Where is the Little Girl Now?

The answer will be: Right in front of you.