There is nothing as therapeutic as writing in my journal. I wrote religiously as a child from the day I turned eight. It's always the best part of my day.
Outside my back window, two grade school girls are cleaning the sliding door in their back yard. I reminds me of Gracie and Sienna, Camlin, Kylie and Luke. I was their nanny this spring. Every day no matter what kind of snow I encountered, I was eager to go to work. Every morning they would stay close to the window waiting on my arrival. The minute they saw me their faces lit up and they wiggled about, unable to contain their excitement.
At Camlin Kylie and Luke's house, we spent the days building forts together that always ended in giggling pillow fights. My hair do never survived any of those. I picked them up from preschool and kindergarten most days. As soon as they got in the car they waved their construction-paper-cotton- ball artwork in my face insisting that I see it, all the while gabbing about the events of the day.
Those children had a way of needing me that still makes me cry sometimes, because they weren't actually mine to have. The day my job ended, I walked through my own door in tears because those children had made me whole. Their exuberant voices were now going to be a memory.
Then the a darling woman called, offering me a job to work with their two toe headed girls. My days with those darlings were spent blowing bubbles in each other's faces, playing hide and go seek and giving each other pedicures. Those two girls were like crystals I was afraid to drop. Their pure natures held more value to me than the rarest elements on earth. I yearned to protect them under my wings.
They sang disney songs all day, played make believe with me and doted on each other. One afternoon while Gracie was at school, Sienna and I were playing make believe and she wanted it to be night time so I laid myself on the couch to close my eyes. She sat on my stomach, pink-ribbon-wand in hand, directing me, in her mousy voice, what to do next. Eventually she too wanted to close her eyes. The moment I could feel her breath evenly on my chest, I felt like God had given me the purest gift. This tiny fairy-like creature felt secure with me! I wanted to squeeze her tightly and promise to move heaven and earth for her.
Her older sister was just as much of a jewel to me. The moment I met her she was wearing pig tails and I felt like I was looking at myself 25 years ago, full of apprehension for adults and clinging to the safety of my mother's arm. It was such a choice opportunity to be given the chance to fill Gracie with courage and a sense of empowerment. She had the beauty of frail self esteem, the way she counted on me to show her what she was capable of. I felt it my privilege to watch her bloom as I helped her with homework. One afternoon I watched her and her sister sing all the words to Frozen's theme song with arms outstretched, stomping on cue and nothing but sour notes. I huddled in the corner of the kitchen filming them with a giddiness I could barely contain. I prayed there on that cold tile floor that Gracie would never loose this exquisite ability to express herself without shame. When I walked out to my car on my last day with the them, Gracie and Sienna followed me, peppering the air with 'bye's and ' I love you's. I was already near tears as I sat in the driver's seat but what broke me was that as I began coasting down the street, Gracie began running to keep up.
My heart will forever be changed by the children I've doted on. Each of them are magnificent to me! They love without reservation. They forgive and forget in the same breath. They see the world as a frontier to be conquered and my goodness how they need our love! I pray every day that I can be like them in all their purity and vivaciousness.
