a true story about big feelings
The Girl She Drew Crying
She slides the paper across the table, then pulls her hand back and steps away from it.
the realization
My first move was to erase the sad girl and hand her back a happy one. But she didn't want a different drawing. She wanted me to look at the one she made and stay anyway.
She slid the paper over to me and then stepped back, like she wasn't sure she should have. A little girl in blue crayon, mouth pulled down, two big tears going all the way to the chin. She drew that. She drew herself.
have you ever felt this way too?
So I did what I do. I picked up a crayon and drew a smile right over the crying mouth. You're not sad, I said. You're my happy girl. I said it in my warmest voice. I thought I was handing her something good.
She didn't take the paper back. She pushed the whole thing under the table with the flat of her hand and wouldn't look at it. The smile was still sitting there, bright and wrong, and she wanted it gone more than she'd wanted the crying girl gone.
So I set the crayon down and got low, and I didn't touch the smile. I just drew a second little girl next to hers, smaller, sitting down. Can I sit with her? She's really sad. And she doesn't have to be happy for me to stay. She took the blue crayon and stretched one girl's hand out until it touched the other one's, and then she leaned her head on my arm.
what I found myself saying
"Can I sit with her?"
"She's really sad. That's okay, I'm not going anywhere."
"She doesn't have to be happy for me to stay."
