I was waiting my turn at the beauty shop one day, when a little girl
who was holding a small foam ball smiled at me from the corner of the room.
I smiled back and she gently tossed the ball toward me and I
could tell from the look on her face that she had decided that
I might be someone who would play with her.
I laughed and began playing “catch the ball” with her.
She would hand me the ball and stand back for me to throw it,
occasionally making a remark concerning the game or about
something else that was on her mind.  Then suddenly,
out of the blue, she stopped playing and grasped the ball tightly
with both hands.  She looked at me very sadly as she lowered her voice
and said, “Kerri’s Daddy doesn’t live with her anymore.”

It was as if she wanted to let me know that there was something
worrying her and it was too big for her to handle or understand.
I wondered if she hoped that I could do something about it.
After all, I was an adult who was willing to play ball with her,
perhaps I would also be willing to do something to help
her friend, Kerri who wanted her Daddy to come back home.
Maybe she was even a little frightened, wondering about her own security.
Was she wondering, since Kerri’s Daddy left, did that mean it was possible that
her Daddy might leave too?  I was suddenly very aware
of how scary the world can be for children.

I told her I was very sorry about Kerri’s Daddy and she
went back to playing ball, but it must have seemed to her
that nobody really was trying very hard to fix the problem.
She was probably used to bringing a broken toy to
a caring adult who would dab a bit of super glue on it
and make it as good as new.

It seems that we adults go about our lives thinking about our own desires,
thinking that children are too young to pick up on what
is happening around them.  Yet, how many adults today have
problems as a result of something that happened in their childhood?

I didn't envy her mother's job of trying to explain to her that
there are some things other people can't fix with a bit of super glue.

You don't have to be around children very long before they tell you
what they care about and where they hurt.  They get right to the point
and tell you the truth, for they have not yet practiced
the art of masks and facades that adults often put forth,
nor are they too proud to tell you what problems they might have.

I still think about the little girl with the ball.
She reminded me that if something is worrying you,
find a friend to talk to about it and you don't have to
pretend everything is all right when it's not.

By
Pamela R. Blaine
© February, 2003