Sensitive Souls

This past week was exhausting. I was physically drained from the red-eye flight Thursday morning and never quite recovered. Sleep had no intention of paying me a visit over the weekend. I got home Sunday morning, just in time to start preparing for the neighborhood to come over for an Easter gathering that afternoon. After everyone went home for the evening, even though I was tired from hopping around all day, I needed to get out and clear my mind.

I decided that a quick walk on the path near my house would be a wonderful idea. About half-way through my loop, I saw a person coming toward me...a girl, probably in her late teens. It was so apparent that she was an emotional mess...I could hear her sobbing and as she walked she would place her face in the nook of her elbow to either hide or wipe away the tears.

I stopped in my tracks. I was tearing up a bit just from hearing and seeing her. All of these thoughts raced through my head as to why she could be in so much pain. The only thing that I could get out of my mouth was, "Sweetheart, what can I do for you?" and then " Everything will be ok." She cried harder and said thank-you. But, the oddest thing happenend as she came closer and then passed me. I could feel her. Literally, I could feel her energy. The hairs on my arms stood up and this wave of sadness made its way through me. I've always been one to empathize with others, but this was so different. Which leads me to Elsa.

She is such a loving, in-tune spirit. Even when her energy is off, she admits it. On Easter, she was in and out of the house with her friends, but she would stop and lean into me, look at me, but not say anything, all with this knowing glow in her eyes.

Later, we were lying down...the kids were crawling (slowly...they were getting tired) over and around me while I was still. Lucas scurried off. Elsa leaned over top of me and put her nose to mine...Eskimo kisses...then she puts her little hand on my head and says, "You can cry whenever you want, Mommy. Stop holding things in. It's ok." She runs off. I was dumfounded. I had been smiling, chatting, hugging on people all day. Yet, somehow she knew that my heart was sad.

Compassion...what a gift...for her, as well as for those who are blessed enough to have contact with her.