March Journal Entry
When
my daughter Tegan came home to do some laundry this weekend I asked her
about plans after graduation, and how her classes were going. Right now
the finite realities of "where to live, job, etc." are obscure. Yet,
as my daughter began to talk about a little girl she met last week, a
compassionate place my daughter does have in the world came into sharp
focus. As I listened—I learned about a little girl named Emil
y, at a place near the university where Tegan volunteers and works with
children with special needs.
My daughter described going to the classroom to meet her new little "student" last week. But no one could find Emily--who was hiding. Hiding is easy for Emily, because she is a dwarf and her size makes it easy for her to disappear. Emily is also very shy and likes to be in places where no one can see her. Quietly she had slipped away from the group and was hiding among the toys in a back corner. After calling for her and looking all around the classroom Tegan finally discovered her in a corner and gently coaxed her out of a small place Emily had tucked herself into. My daughter's gentle voice finally brought forth Emily's appearance. Slowly, with wide eyes of trepidation, Emily reached for my daughter’s hand as they walked out of the classroom and to physical therapy together.
My daughter described going to the classroom to meet her new little "student" last week. But no one could find Emily--who was hiding. Hiding is easy for Emily, because she is a dwarf and her size makes it easy for her to disappear. Emily is also very shy and likes to be in places where no one can see her. Quietly she had slipped away from the group and was hiding among the toys in a back corner. After calling for her and looking all around the classroom Tegan finally discovered her in a corner and gently coaxed her out of a small place Emily had tucked herself into. My daughter's gentle voice finally brought forth Emily's appearance. Slowly, with wide eyes of trepidation, Emily reached for my daughter’s hand as they walked out of the classroom and to physical therapy together.
In
the therapy room my daughter and Emily crawled through toy tunnels.
Talking to this quiet little girl, and crawling along the tunnels Tegan
noticed a trail of crumbs. She cleaned up the crumbs, but there were
soon more. She wondered to herself, where the
y could be coming from?
Tegan
had seen Emily's tiny clenched fist—and now wondered what she was
holding, or if her closed fist was just out of fear. Climbing out of
the tunnel, they sat for a moment and my daughter asked to see inside
the small closed hand. Gently asking and slowly opening one finger, and
now another, and now another…a mashed cookie was revealed. The cookie
was beyond eating, a small pile of sweaty crumbs.
There
was no information to be gained about where the cookie had come from or
why she had tried to keep it—at least not from words. Tegan imagined
the possibilities for the crumbled cookie's appearance; that Emily was
perhaps hungry and had gotten it from somewhere to eat later, or she
had taken it and hung on to it because it made her feel safe, or she
wasn’t supposed to have the cookie and was hiding it.
She reassured the child, it would be okay, they would get rid of the
sweaty crumbs and find something good to eat. Holding her and talking
with her, Emily seemd to relax, nodding her head in agreement.
A
simple story, but I kept thinking about Emily holding those crumbs so
tightly; a small, scared, silent child, clenching a cookie and my
daughter’s gentle presence with this child. "Big" people aren't that
different. We are often scared children clutching at something we are
hungry for, or something that makes us feel safe, or something we want
to hide. That something may be a relationship, money, power, an
addiction or our shame-- something that we believe that if hang on to
tightly enough, we will feel less hungry, less scared, less vulnerable
and alone. The very thing we clench and covet in the fist of
our life-crumbles.
God waits for us to let go, to unclench our fist. If we come to Him with open palms, open hearts, we can take His hand. We too are dwarfs in this giant universe of His creation and it scares us. Yet He is there waiting, waiting for us to come out of our dark hiding place, waiting for us to unclench our fists, waiting to gently take our hand and walk with us. We must only surrender to His loving presence.
God waits for us to let go, to unclench our fist. If we come to Him with open palms, open hearts, we can take His hand. We too are dwarfs in this giant universe of His creation and it scares us. Yet He is there waiting, waiting for us to come out of our dark hiding place, waiting for us to unclench our fists, waiting to gently take our hand and walk with us. We must only surrender to His loving presence.
I thought immediately of Hansel and Gretel, save that your lovely daughter would not have appeared a threat. More likely that Emily would help Tegan should they get lost in the tunnel. Such a lovely post. It is the first time I've read about dwarfism without experiencing a visceral and unwanted shudder. It is always such a shock to encounter within oneself such prejudice when one wants to be open and loving to all God's creatures.
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