Fw: Through the eyes of a child

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Namaste:

 

Though this pertains to no single thread

It does contain some strands- no mead

 

The Gita I have not yet read

Except for Arjuna's despair :-)

 

Well he deserves it (says Lady Joyce)

For betting his wife...so there

 

I can only speak from my experience

And only offer my inflated two cents

 

Yet there is consciousness of One

And reincarnation before I am done

 

So I offer this post

 

regards,

 

Lady Joyce

 

====================================

The combination of Harshaji's post on children and spirituality and a chance

meeting of the eyes this morning with the child about whom I wrote this short

story some months ago prompted me to share it with you...there is hope for All

of us, young and old...lucky for us, we do get to carry over the credits into

our next incarnation :-)

 

November 24, 2002

 

I am home today and it is quiet. Yesterday was a hectic day, our birthday party

for my Jesse, just turned three...We are at Jesse's birthday party...There is a

little girl from his class...I will call her Mabelle...A beautiful little child,

Asian...I do not know just what is the country of her heritage. She is sitting

across the table from me, a little 3 year old girl at a birthday party for a

little three year old boy. Yet I look into her eyes and see 3,000 years. She

looks at me with her unabashed stare deep into my eyes as I look back at her,

both of us locked together. There is almost an emptiness in her gaze...yet it is

not without intelligence and it has no emotion that I can pinpoint...but her

eyes hold me...the eyes of a child....I smile back into her face, not in

embarrassment, but in an effort to communicate with her across the table. She

continues to stare at me and does not flinch.

She is so alone...all of the other kids at the party had their faces painted,

except her. A modesty that seems unfair to her, for the tender age she is. Even

I got my hand painted! I get goose bumps as I look at her. She just does not

break her gaze. But no matter what, there is no expression, until maybe near the

end of the party later, when I see her precious little mouth show just the

slightest smile. Back to this moment, I can see that she is just as fascinated

with me as I am with her. She is looking into my eyes trying to figure me out as

much as I her. We both feel the connection. I get goose bumps as I write this

and when I think about her today as I go about my day.

 

It is as if she is trapped and needs to be freed...but this may not come for her

until she is old enough to understand. I turn to her mother and I tell

her..."Your daughter is very special. She is mature way beyond her years." Her

mother begins to try to explain her to me...and says, " She does well in school,

but is very quiet and distant. I was thinking of taking her to a specialist to

make sure she is OK." I look over at Mabelle again...we look into each other's

eyes and I get goose bumps again. I turn back to her mother, an alarm siren

going off inside of me at the thought of some specialist getting his or her

hands on this precious child. "You do not need to worry about her. When I say

that she is special, I feel that she is very spiritual. There is something about

her." I pull up my sleeve and show her mother my bare arm, my goose bumps. "She

gives me goose bumps," I tell her mother.

 

She recoils in surprise and I see a certain fear in her eyes as she looks at my

arm, filled with goose bumps. I tell her..."Don't be afraid. I feel good from

her. There will come the day when she will blossom.. You must be patient. Do not

take her to any kind of specialist. I don't know if you believe in God," she

starts, almost flinches, as I strike a nerve...I continue..."but what I am

trying to tell you is that your daughter is with God. I can feel it." I see

her face relax as my words sooth a mother's soul which has been wracked with

worry over her child. If we were not at a party, she probably would have cried.

I can see the pain in her eyes.

 

At the end of the party, I put out a little collection of dollar store toys for

the kids to pick their own party favor. I walk away. When I come back, I see

that Mabelle has chosen a long white satiny dress with a rainbow colored waist

sash. I go over to her and her mom. I bend down and say to her mom.."Look what a

pretty dress she picked...does she have a Barbie doll?" (What can I tell you,

that's the way they make the female dolls here...and everywhere :-)

 

Her mother looks perplexed and says "NO. She does not have any dolls. She likes

the animals and more boy toys." There are boy things on the table...farm

animals...forest animals. Interesting. She then proceeded to talk to Mabelle. I

do not hear their words, but you can see that she is trying to get Mabelle to

pick something else. I decide to let her look again. I tell her to pick whatever

she wanted...that we would walk away and let her choose. She then chooses a

little girl makeup set that I had just put out so that there would be more girl

toys. Other than that, all that was left were boy toys and more doll clothes.

She chose the girl set.

 

Postscript: I had written this partly for the benefit of someone on a listserv

who had gallantly taken it upon himself to psychoanalyze me offlist. Ah, yes, I

have been branded as crazy by many :-) His concern was that my language and

choice of words in my posts were too feminine and did not have enough balance,

ie, maleness, what he called the "male indicators" were missing from my posts

:-). Moral of the story as I expressed it to him? While I might not use

language or generate male vibes, when we were done with each other, this little

girl opened up to feel some feminine part of herself that she had never

expressed before in her home. Maybe that was why I had so much, so I could give

it to her :-) Whether she got me to feel some masculine part of myself remains

to be seen and not heard.

 

Most importantly, she reminded to be in awe of All That Is. I had that sweet

feeling in my Heart ( I call it bliss) for the rest of the day after she and I

exchanged...something. I wonder did she have that feeling too? Was that what

she was looking for this morning when she tried to lock gazes with me again? I

wish I could have felt it again myself. Parting is such sweet sorrow...maybe

tomorrow. (Hi Rumi, are you missing it too?)

 

All I know is that I was determined to give her a doll and I did. She will get

that white dress back. It just so happened that among our collection of toys,

there was a beautiful little Ariel doll, all dressed up for Spring. So, when I

was done with Mabelle, she had a new doll, a mermaid doll who turns into a human

doll when you remove her mermaid tail, and I gave her back the white dress she

had chosen at the party. As for what she exchanged with me, for surely I

received something from the exchange, the jury is still out...All in the Oneness

of Infinity...Blessed be.