A story about a girl

March 28, 2010

She wanted to be invisible. That’s why she wore black all the time, to hide in the shadows. All her life she tried to be like other girls, to be normal, to laugh and giggle with each other while making fun of someone or chatting up a gossip. But she knew she was different. She knew that a lot of times people were talking about her and not in a good way. That’s why she wanted to disappear, to be unnoticed.

She hated crowded places: the bus she had to take to work, small cramped meeting rooms, and most of all, church. Hiding in the bus was okay most of the time. All she had to do was make her way to the back row and sit in an empty seat which had another empty spot adjacent to it. On most days the bus would be only half full and she did not have to excuse herself and apologize under her breath as some thin lady glared at her and the empty seat next to her. The tiny meeting rooms at work was a little worse, especially if a lot of people were in the meeting. She felt like she took up half the room, so she always came to the meetings 5 minutes early to sit in the corner, sitting straight up and tried to be as small and tall and compact as possible. She didn’t exhale until she was out of the meeting. Thankfully, she didn’t have to talk too much during the meetings or even pay attetion to what was really going on. She could concentrate on making herself as small as possible and let her mind wander away to a more spacious place.

At church, however, it was a different story. The space wasn’t the problem. In fact the sanctuary was almost empty every Sunday. It could easily hold fifty sixty people but typically only six to seven people showed up. This meant however that everyone had to greet everyone. Well theoretically, in a church, especially in a congregation that small where everyone could greet everyone else in five minutes after the service, everyone could greet everyone. Except this didn’t happen. Well not everyone greeted her. She would be left standing after the service awkwardly fidgeting around with a cup of coffee in her hand and trying to quell her conscience on whether she had done her part in being “a part of the Body of Christ.”. When she had felt that her discomfort had been more than enough to assuage the feeling of guilt she would hurriedly rush out the doors, while a gentle smile pasted oh her face and an acknowleding nod towards no one in particular.

The one place she took comfort in was at a nearby park. Everyday after dinner she would take her iPod in her stylish pink cover, and take a stroll through the neighborhood park. On the bench she would listen to the shuffled tunes as the sun would slowly hide away behind the western hills, and the stars would come out one by one. On a clear night she could see hundreds and thousands of stars and the moon. Then when the joy that she saw and heard was too much, she closed her eyes, turned off her iPod and could finally be her self. She would pray, not with her words but with all her heart, a prayer of thanks, for making her so small, so unimportant in this vast universe and yet given the oppertunity to taste a smallest slic of that joy. At these moments her heart would be utterly at peace, and when these elations have physically exhausted her she would clamber back to her room ready to rest and live another day.

This is a story of how this beautiful girl came to realize that she was loved beyond what she could ever imagine.


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