The Story of a Little Girl – Part I

There was a little girl that did not like change. She was a happy little girl even if she seemed somewhat serious to others. She lived in a small house on a corner lot. There was a large willow tree in the front yard. It was the perfect place for a little girl to play. Actually all the children love to play there. Her mother liked to sit underneath the willow tree in the summer, while all the kids in the neighborhood played around her.

The little girl delighted in making mud pies. They were her specialty, and if she couldn't be found playing under the willow tree with its protecting branches she could be found in the dirt, making her specialty mud pies

Her best friend lived next door. There was a short split rail fence separating the two properties. She and her best friend would stand on the bottom rail and hang their arms over the top rail and talk and talk and talk.

It was a different time then. Children could play outside in their front yards without fear of strangers. The little girl's house was set high above the street, or at least it seemed so to the little girl. From her high vantage point she could look down on the traffic safely, not that there was that much traffic.

It was perfect, everything a little girl could ask for. Then one day the house was gone. The tree was gone. There was no dirt for the mud pies. The fence was gone. And the best friend was gone. There was a new house.

The grown woman who was that little girl remembers little of that house. Her only clear memory was that there was a sidewalk in front where she learned to roller skate. she had no friends that she can recall and doesn't remember anyone her age, living close by. When the grown woman who was that child looks back on her memories of that house her mind gets an overlay of gray.. The grown woman would tell you that that was negative energy overlaying the house.

It was the house the family lived in, but it was never a home. The house just never felt right and the only memory she took away was that this is where she learned to roller skate.

Then, they moved again. This place was very different. The little girl can remember standing across the street and looking at her new home. There was sunshine all around. The house floated in the sunshine and there was something else. The grown woman that was that little girl would say that there was a heavenly presence around that little house It was a pretty house and even at the tender age of six, she thought that the name of the street, Rosewood Circle, fit the house perfectly. She doesn't remember a lot of houses around them. She does remember a lot of open area in which to play. There weren't any trees, at least like the willow tree she still remembered.

There was a vacant lot she used to walk to and one day she found something very amazing! Wild asparagus was growing in the field! Up to this point she could take or leave asparagus, but this was so amazing she had to pick it and take it home to her mother. Her mother cooked it and the little girl has never forgotten the taste of it to this date.

She can remember no children her age to make friends with in the neighborhood and so she learned that she preferred the company of adults to that of children. Oh, there were children in the neighborhood, but they were all younger than she was and for the most part that meant they were boring playing their “little kid” games.

All in all, the little girl was happy. She would have been content to stay there for the rest of her life. But life is nothing if not change, and one day the little girl found that this home was to be no more.

This was too much for the little girl. She craved stability. She craved a place that was safe and warm and constant. Three homes in seven years was too much. At least it was too much for this little girl.

The grown woman who was that little girl, knew the little girl had not had it all that bad. There were many children who changed homes every year, if not every few months. There were children who moved to places where they didn't even know the language. But the little girl didn't know that. The little girl couldn't know that. And frankly, the little girl wouldn't have cared. After all, she was just a little girl.

"They" say that personality and behavior patterns are pretty much set by the age of seven. If so, what had the little girl learned?

She had learned that she couldn't count on friends to stay in her life. She had learned that no home was permanent in her life. At the tender age of seven she had learned that it was best not to make friends that way you didn't have to leave them. She had learned that she also couldn't count on "home."

The Soul craves what the Sole craves. The little girl didn't know why she needed home why she needed friends why she needed stability. The grown woman understands that these were urges she came with at birth. In looking back, the grown woman who was that little girl, realizes that there were lessons for the little girl and she was not learning them. In her fear and self pity, she had cut herself off to learning those lessons. It would take many years before she learned those lessons.