In the Depths of Her Closet

Olivia, a brunette, with straight hair brushed just past her shoulders, slim fitting jeans, and stylish boots discusses the events of Hurricane Katrina she observed play across the television screen the night before as she sat side by side with her mother. She comments on the depth of the water, on the number of homeless, and on the dogs stranded on the roofs of cars floating idly through the murky waters.

Early morning light filters through the curtains and I am able to see the expressions that dance across her face as she recognizes loss. The children, she comments, have no Moms or Dads, no houses, no yards, no swings or slides, no toys or food, no car.

She is silent over breakfast, she digests not only her waffles, but all that she has come to discover about life in just a moment of time.

The day progresses on and Olivia leaves for school.

I collect a number of long forgotten, gently loved teddy bears and stuffed animals from about our home to contribute to the Teddy Bear Drive. Perhaps we will make a difference in the lives of some small children somewhere in the pain-stricken deep south.

It is mid afternoon when Olivia joins me in the kitchen, following her school day, for peanut butter and crackers. Brushing crumbs from her mouth, she hurriedly throws her book bag into the bottom of the closet and rushes off to her room. I find her digging through the depths of her closet, insisting that 'it' has to be there somewhere.

It just so happens, Olivia, that 'it' was donated, just this morning, to a child that may not have a Mom or Dad, a house, a yard, a swing or slide, any toys or food, or car. Her tears flowed. Our tears flowed.

We sat together and cried for the lost pig, the lost lives and homes, for the sense of security forever washed away. We painted a picture, the two of us, sitting there on the edge of her pink ruffled bed. We are artists of emotion.

Friday morning Olivia shared with each of her teachers and each of her friends that her fuzzy pink pig was being loved and cared for by a very special child with little else to hang on to.

Olivia is four.