Frances Friday: Faith

World, please be kind to my little girl.

She is perfect as she is at this very moment. She is thoughtful and prudent, generous and kind, polite and sociable, clever and sweet, resilient and sensitive. I spend every day awed at how unlikely it all seems. How did I produce her? How did she learn to make friends so easily when I still stumble over small talk, at 32? When I was three I threw temper tantrums all day long. How is it she so easily follows directions? How did she learn to watch her step so carefully without ever seeming to lose out on any fun? How does such a tiny ribcage hold such a large heart? How is it that the smallest unkind word to herself or others moves her to tears, yet she bounces back from trauma without missing a step?

It's incredible. It's not just me, is it? She is an amazing person, the best person I have ever met. She knows what loss is, but she still throws her heart wide open every day. She is as sensitive as gossamer and yet tougher than old boot leather.

You and I both know, world, that you need a lot more people like Frances.

Today she is starting school.

I have seen her around her peers. They don't mean to be unkind, they just don't see her. She is so small that they barrel right over her, knocking her off her feet, and don't even notice. It's not intentional. But my wee girl gets bowled over time and time again (and gets up and dusts herself off and keeps playing). And she is different. Different is never easy on the playground. Different is like walking around with a target painted on your back. And this summer has already been so hard for her. She doesn't show it, but I know and you know that losing your family and your house and your neighbourhood and your daycare and all your old friends in a matter of weeks is no easy thing, not even for a big kid, not even for an adult. She is only three. Surely that much is enough. More than enough.

It is her resiliency combined with her sensitivity and her unreserved joy that is so remarkable. Such a hard combination to fathom. Millions of people, billions even, have them individually or even in sets of two, but how many have all three? How many let the world in so completely and with such happiness and don't get chewed alive? I'm about to let her step from her family and from the warmth and shelter of a daycare to start at school. Please don't bruise and destroy what I find most beautiful about her. Yes, she's resilient; yes, she's strong. Don't let that be an excuse to kick her and knock her down until the sensitivity is worn off like cheap gilt and her joy is ground to dust.

She'll have hard days, she'll face heartbreak, now that she's on her journey away from her family and towards herself. Just don't let it be enough to break her. I can't keep her safe anymore.

World, please be kind to my little girl. Her eyes are why the universe was born.

Posted by Andrea at September 7, 2007 6:01 AM under Frances Friday

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