Sharing the Community Garden

Before you knock it, try it first – you’ll see it’s a blessing and it’s not a curse – Ben Harper


She came in with her mother, sat down so proudly on her own, next to the new born sister with strangely blue eyes. Her cheeks puffed out a little too much, like a chipmunk with her mouth full of nuts. Her hair was a wavy mahogany, roundly framing such cheeks, not hiding deep brown curious eyes. It struck me all not so different from mine when I was three. She looked straight and so serious, not willing to crack a smile when I tried to pursue that option.



I wanted to listen to the lady talk, so I put my hand on her head and gave her the smile she did not have and carried on. She stayed for a second, and then began circling around the room as if no one else was there, as if there was not someone in the front speaking, and even if there was, as if she herself was so invisible that her circling would be of no consequence to anyone. She circled because she wanted to know, and maybe too, wanted to be known; wanted the magic potion to wear off so she too could be a part. She went back to be with her also potion drinking mom, always a step away, looking at the pictures on the wall, the cracks in the paint, the wrinkles on the other lady’s faces, the way their lips moved up and down when they were speaking so fast.


She came back up front and made a courageous attempt to engage; staring and standing, still apart, not about to let on that she might be enjoying something or even more someone. I invited her to come closer and began drawing a picture for her; my typical cartoon face guy, the only one I can do well, with wobbly knees and no hands, playing with an oblong and oddly checkered soccer ball. I offered the pencil but that was not a risk she was willing to take at the moment. As I drew she would sporadically look away, down on the ground, hiding the smile and maybe even the laugh that such a silly picture seemed to force.


Now, the picture had run its course, all concealed chuckles had dispersed and she was simply squeezed in between the two chairs, studying the contours of my face, and the level of sincerity in my eyes. I loved her, and I showed her by patting her gently on her back and her head, as she stayed and explored being in a new person’s presence. She then left and began circling, and my attention once again was stolen by the lady in the front. As I did, I glanced to check on her and out of the corner of my eye began to notice that it wasn’t just my presence with which she was experimenting, that this was the way she began to learn and test and trust any new surroundings or possible entrees into her life. Therefore, it was OK for me to listen to the lady talk if I wanted to, I would not be neglecting her if I did. There were other presences to provide just such a loving pat in addition to my offerings, making it easier for everybody; making sure everyone could listen and love enough to be filled and in turn have enough to give. I realized, such a seed was much more able to blossom under many types of shade and sunlight and periods of rain shower.


When the lady at the front ceased, this very girl went over to another baby, just a little older from the one she was used to, held both of the baby's hands and unashamedly; with such confidence smiled the biggest smile and made the silliest faces just to make the baby laugh . It was hard to keep in the joy that flooded my body at that moment. Maybe I could not make her smile that way, but I was glad to see, there was someone who could.



~ Personal comments --- maybe you guys are starting to wonder why I am mostly putting up creative writing excersises, and not explaining my own thoughts and details of specific experiences. The thing is, these are my thoughts and these are my experiences, and instead of going on an on, as I can, about what is going on, I thought I would communicate it concisely in a form I have grown to love. I wanted to share the things I loved with you, so maybe you could grow to love them too, and in turn me. I feel a need to be honest but also realize there are certain formats for certain levels of honesty; this is a way to stay honest --- allowing someone to unpack the layers of my writing and see the levels to which things are going on in my life without directly saying it all. I hope you enjoy it and don't feel I'm being exclusive and escoteric.

P.S -- I know what that Ben Harper quote is referring to, and don't worry, that is not what I am --- just in the end, talking about love; its a darn good thing I went to Calvin, and believe in discernment.

Peace,

Rachel