The Girl Behind the Screen Door

I saw something the other day that I just can't seem to shake. It was moment so intense that my mind captured the image leaving a permanent tattoo in my soul.

I was doing my job, dropping kids off after group and after I walked a child safely to their door and climbed into and sat down in a 15 passenger van full of chattering kids - my forward glance was captured by a pair of eyes.

The eyes looked not thru me, but into me. Sharing a lonely but trusting glance that can only come from a child. She was four of five years old. Her hair was braided into an ebony honeycomb on the very top of her head. Her brown skin shown warm in the afternoon sun, hi-lighting her huge charcoal eyes peering at me over the top of a rusty screen door.

At first her eyes looked empty, rather like a light-bright toy before it's plugged in. It's a state of soul that I often witness because I work with underprivileged kids every day. So sad, looking like the commercials you see about starving children other side of the world, except these are kids that live in my world. These kids aren't just starved for food, they're starving for love.

I smiled at her like I smile at all the kids. I don't give polite half-smiles. It's not something I really think about because I always smile, "Up to my eyes.". When my son was two or three, he would laugh at me because when we would play he'd tell me "Mommy, you smile up to your eyes." It was his way toddler way of telling me he loved it when I didn't hold my joy inside. To this day I have coworkers, parents and kids that give me nicknames like: Sunshine, The Pied Piper, or my personal favorite... Mary Poppins. Even to this day, if I want a grinning picture of my kids, I'll tell them - "That's it, smile up to your eyes!"

At first it looked as if those hollow eyes didn't know what to do. It reminded me of watching a new born colt trying to stand for the first time. Her eyes were just as unsure and wobbly as colts legs, but they were determined to sure up and make it. I couldn't see anymore of that child's face then the bridge of her nose, as she stood on tiptoe to peer back at me. Wobbly on tiptoe - but determined to make a connection with someone, with me.

In a moment, my smile was returned to me in the glimmering upturned smiling eyes of a child. The light-bright was plugged in and all the slots were full. The emotion of happiness expressed in that moment took my breath away and brought tears to my eyes. All I could do was smile back in return and pop my hand up to say "Hello" through the tinted glass of my windshield and the crisscross metal of her screen. The connection was made and she waved back to me with a small dimpled hand.

I kept eye contact with her until we pulled off of her dead end street and back out on the main road to take the rest of the group kids home. As I rode shotgun and my partner drove, I told her how powerful that 30 second eye contact exchange had been. She mentioned that she had noticed the girl when I waved at her, but I was the one that had "caught her eyes".
I thought about that as we drove past run-down houses and autumn trees. I caught her eyes, but I sent her mine.

I wonder how many times a day that little girl peeks out the screen hoping to make contact with someone else? Maybe she's o.k. and her family treats her well; but there was something in the way she looked at me that make me think I may have been the only friendly "Hello" all day.

I'm not sure why moments like this happen. There was something about her eyes and the emotion they conveyed that made me want to tell you about it. I felt her despair, hope, expectation, joy and awe all in the matter of a minute or less. Thank you little girl behind the screen door. Your eyes hold more wonder and potential than you will ever know. Whatever happens, keep smiling up to your eyes.