I met a girl.
A girl who has seen much more of the ugly world than she should have at the age of 13.
A girl who has a long road ahead to overcome the tragedies she has been forced to bear.
During the first five minutes of our conversation I thought what I had been told about her must be untrue, that the child who sat before me was not capable of her alleged actions and the smile that radiated across her face could not have hidden such anger and resentment at the world. When we began to talk and she started to unravel the story of her life to me, the flash of anger in her eyes did not go unnoticed—the wall of defensiveness around her was evident in the sudden tightness of her shoulders and the way she sat ready to pounce at any given moment. But still, the bits of the little girl she once was pulled me in and captivated me to believe that perhaps if I convinced her that I am on her side and will do what I can to help her, that she will be able to focus on a future that does not balance on a repetitive cycle of chaos and pain. After we got the ugly stuff out of the way and I assured her that I believed her and was outraged on her behalf, I guided her towards thoughts of ‘what can be’ instead of ‘what is.” We talked about her dreams and goals and I discovered she wants to be a nurse and desires to help people. Some might find that ironic, considering her history of lashing out at those around her, but I see her antics for what they are—a child screaming for someone to stand in her court and to believe her when she voices the crimes against her.
At our second meeting she was depressed and almost unreachable, but I knew somewhere underneath she was listening to me and waiting to see if I’d give up and walk away. I decided to avoid hard subjects and focus on putting her mind at ease. We talked—or at least I talked and she listened, with an emotionless expression on her face. But I continued to talk and told her about my morning with my cat who had gifted us with a baby rabbit and a baby mole at our doorstep that morning. Possibly a morbid story—but as I joked about my killer kitty’s adventures, the small smile I saw creeping across the face of the child before me was my reward. Just a few silly words but enough to pull her away from her dark world for a brief time before she shut me out again. As I said goodbye and reminded her that I’d be back to visit, I could see the doubt flicker across her face.
To learn more about the role of a CASA, see their website at www.casaforchildren.org
{ 2 comments… read them below or add one }
WOW… Kay i LOVE this post!! please do keep it up!! i have seen MANY children just like this little girl and as heartwrenchings as it may be it is such a blessing when those little smiles come or their eyes light up the next time you show because a week before they were sure you would never return! It is hard and sometimes VERY confusing that a child so young could fathom and deal with so much! it is SO unfair to them…. i promise that if you stick by this little girl she will one day (maybe not any day soon) but one day come to you and thank you!! To me, her becoming a nurse is not strange- it is perfectly logical in my head!! She is preparing for a NEW and improved life… if everyone had to base their job off of the things they did as a young child (and out of fear) than i think we would all be short on jobs… NO ONE is perfect~ but this little girl has something in her that makes her AMAZING!!! i really hope you stick with it… your awesome!!
Wonderful Story
Thank you for being a CASA Volunteer these children need people like you in their court.
You have a big heart.