As a 23 yr old newly-wed, I lived above my in-laws in a brick duplex on a rather crowded block. He lived on the 2nd floor of the adjoining duplex and would stand on his balcony watching my window. As soon as I watered the plant, he'd call out and wave with a huge grin on his face. I could make out his shoulders and head and waved back, telling him not to lean over the side.
He came over one day to keep me company. I brought out paper and crayons as he scurried onto a chair. He talked non-stop as he drew...
Me - "Ooh cool, what do you call it?"
Him- "It's my house"
Me - "Very cool. I like your walls. What are those called (as he scribbled furious lines around the sides)?"
Him - "I'm locking the doors and windows."
Me - "Why?"
Him - (Never looking up and still locking doors) "Because the cops might come and take my daddy and then my mom will cry and they're bad and want to take him away and...and...and..."
Me - (Heart breaking knowing his dad is a drug dealer) "Oh don't worry. Cops are good people, and if you're ever scared call me. I'll always leave my window open and if you call me I'll hear you."
Him - (Finally looking up) "If they take my daddy away, can I live with you?"
Me - "Of course you can."
Him - "Good. I want you to be my mommy."
Oh, yeah, I'd have them all living with me....
His drawing looked something like this
Direction is revealing herself to you little by little lady stay open she wants you to look in... As I've learned the answers are with in us we carry them around but don't stop long enough to take alook.
ReplyDelete~v~Laura
What a touching story, Elena. And what an impact he made on you. How you remember his drawing. You comforted him and gave him hope.
ReplyDeleteOh so very sad. I was recently frustrated with a little student of mine, demanding more attention than the class, until I met her mother. She so sadly lacks attention and affirmation.
ReplyDeleteThat story was so touching. Make sure you always keep your window open. Like Laura says stay open and the answers will come.
ReplyDeleteIn response to an earlier post. I have an artist's costume. I wear a white T-shirt and white pants. I get drips and splotches of paint on them. That to me is a constant reminder of my journey. There is a little bit of paint on my costume from every painting. One day I couldn't be bothered to get changed when I went to the post office. People stared. Haven't they ever seen an artist's costume before???
Wow, I wonder what happened to the little boy. Did he become an artist. You are a healer in so many ways, Elena. Your example of "being there" for the little guy, a very touching story! These are the events that touch us and help us grow.
ReplyDeleteP.S. You are a wonderful storyteller, by the way!
Your posts here always make me think!