Nome

 It is interesting to me, how the heart can choose.

Without any direction, without any logical explanation, throughout life there are those my heart just knows, no questions asked. 

And here I was, surrounded by tons of lovely children, with whom I laughed and played, whose hands I held and whose faces I touched.  

And yet out of them, only a handful: the ones my heart chose.

At first, she was shy.

A sweet sweet smile, those big brown eyes,
her shorn hair indicating that perhaps recently there were lice.

She would look at me from afar,
held back, head down, eyes up, smile small.

I would lock her eyes with mine, smile gently back.

Then, one day, she moved, to stand in front of me, touching gently my knee. I sat on the bench, surrounded by other, older, more powerful girls, but she shyly, gently, looked at me.
Head down, eyes up, smile a little more secure.

And so I tapped my lap, invited her onto it.
Small as she was, it could work.

She hesitated; she climbed up.
Held herself on the edge, my long arms around her waist.
Her little body full of tension.

Slowly, gradually, I pull her backward.
Slowly, gradually, she rests herself against me.

Still--
She holds her body, so alert, 
head forward and awkwardly away
as we watch the boys at play.

But slowly, gradually.
Head gives way, tucks  up under my neck.
Slowly. Gradually.
Melting, heavy against me,  long skinny limbs drape over me. 
Slowly. Gradually.
She forgets herself.

I wrap my arms tighter around her,
and rock her, back and forth,
my nose against her ear.

This sweet baby tries to drag her away, 

wanting her place, jealous of my attention.
I look to Lynn, who understands, 
who sweeps the baby up into her own loving arms.
I look to Lynn, who understands: 
I am not letting this child leave my lap.

I hold tighter, tighter, and slowly, gradually, eventually:
Her tension is gone.
Her trust becomes complete.

From that moment on, we were fast friends.

 Her sweetness remained,

a peacefulness seated somewhere inside of her,

 but then emerged the twinkle in her eye,

her mischievousness,

 her bopping around energy,

 her joy.

 Just a little girl really,

 with a deep and seasoned soul.

 By our last evening, she had the cuddling down, wrapping her arms around my neck, saying over and over in her sweet little voice
"I love you I love you I love you!"

And when at last it was time to say good-bye, I stood among the children, strong, my emotions under control.

Until, I saw her, standing a bit away, watching me.
Those big brown eyes.
I called her to me.  I knelt down in front of her, I pulled her close.
Without my permission, my voice broke and tears overtook me as I looked into her face, said my good-bye, I love you.

And she just looked at me, unsure it seemed, of how to understand.