a so so big heart
Ping pong balls of rain bounced off the windshield before falling to the ground. The little girl had her teddy, thank goodness. It would always protect her. She pressed her tiny hands against the glass as trees and little houses, flashes of faces, but mostly rain, blurred past. Until finally, they were in the big, big city that her mommy and daddy had told her so much about. The little girl craned her neck past her booster seat to see way up high where only the birds get to be. “Wow. so, so big!” The buildings mesmerized her at first, and then she turned her attention to eye level with all the people walking the streets of the big city. There were dresses of all colors, coats, and nice suits, mostly covered by blacks and browns and grays. Big city people blended in with the buildings it seemed like.
The rain had gentled to only a drizzle so the little girl rolled her window down and heard music. Beautiful music sung by a sad, sad voice. The girl’s eyes frantically searched the busy streets for the gentle sad voice and who it belonged to when her eyes fell on a bright red blanket. It was spread out across the sidewalk, dirtied and stepped on by passerby. On top of the blanket sat a man with one leg, pants too big for his waist, layers and layers of sweaters against the cold, and a thick wool hat. His mittens had holes in him and he was barefoot. The girl couldn’t help but look, stare. What was this man doing?
“Sweetie? What is it? Why are you crying?” She hadn’t heard her own quiet sobs until her mother’s voice shook her out of her little trance. “Mommy mommy,” she sobbed “that man, he’s so cold. He’s so dirty. Mommy he’s so sad. Mommy mommy ouchie ouchie my heart.” Her heart plummeted from only a light sprinkle of sadness, to pounding sobs. It felt like her sadness was flooding her lungs, no matter how deeply she sucked in air, it pushed out what little air was trying to get in, back out through all the cracks that were tearing through her heart. “Sweetie, who? Why are you crying? Take a deep breath, okay? Sweetie, deep breath, it’s okay.”
Her grandma, who had been sitting next to her for the whole ride, slid her wrinkled, warm hand into hers. “Baby girl, you’re sad because you see that man and you see that he doesn’t have a home, is cold, alone, and sad, yes?” “Yes,” the little one gasped through sobs. “Okay, honey love, here’s what we’re going to do. You picture the biggest sets of hands you can, even bigger than grandpa’s. So big it can fit the world inside them, could carry it around with them. So one person barely weighs anything in these big big hands. Now, what we’re going to do is picture that man on the street in all of his sadness and loneliness and we’re going to put that man from our tiny hands into the big big hands. Those big hands are the safest, most gentle, most kind place in the whole world. Do you see him there, sweet girl?” “I see him, grandma.” Her breathing was becoming a little more even, the sadness a little less heavy. “Good. And how do you feel when you see him there?” “Better, grandma, I feel better!”
“Sometimes there are so many things that are much too sad, honey. They will make you feel like you can barely breathe, and it is beautiful to feel sad for things that hurt our hearts. But it’s important to remember that our sadness doesn’t have to be all consuming, because how will we help if we are crying all the time? Picture those hands, sweetie, and it gives us a place to put all the pain.”