Monday, February 7, 2011
One late sunny afternoon a little boy woke up from his nap, climbed out of bed and walked down the hallway through his house. Each room that he slowly checked revealed that no one was home with him and the cold, icy fingers of panic began to spread in his heart. His voice echoed over and over again in the house, more mournful and loud each time as he called out to the only people he had known in his short life. Where were they? They had always been here before?
Finally, he sank down silently on the kitchen floor and realized that for the first time ever, he was all alone. They were gone. They had all left while he was asleep and he had been abandoned. In his mind, it only made sense that he had done something wrong and that while they could, they had slipped away from him and left him to be alone for the rest of his life. He began to cry in the pain, for the his loss and for the ones he would miss. What had he done that was so horrible? Why did they stop loving him?
The boy, of course, grew up as little boys do and Dad and Mom that day were really not that far away, merely in the back yard relaxing, but that little boy never forgot that he was left all alone, abandoned and discarded by those he loved for some wrong that he could not even remember. No amount of love and time ever healed that space in his heart and he still cries at night in his sleep. No one wanted him. No one wants him. No one will ever want him.
They all leave. They always leave. You will always be left alone.
How can I possibly feel this way after so many years?
How I wish I could go back and hold that little boy tight to my chest and while rocking with him say softly, "Love is right outside. Have no fear. Hush now...
Love will always be there...
You are not alone."
That little boy is still on the kitchen floor crying.
I can hear him.
How do I reach him?