I
Once there was a Little Girl who
loved God. She didn’t like
sitting still, or using her indoor voice.
She also didn’t like to be touched because there were already so many
messages coming into her clever mind that she couldn't cope with much more.
The Little Girl’s parents took her
to church because they wanted her to know more about God. And everyone is welcome at church, no matter
what! So the Little Girl tried to sit
still for an hour. The wooden bench was
hard and scratchy. Ladies’ perfume smelled
funny. People talked and talked and the
organ squawked and squawked. And she was
supposed to shake hands or hug—twice! It
was too much. But still the Little Girl
tried very hard because she knew that God loved her and this was God’s house.
After church the Little Girl had to
go to a class for kids her age to learn about God. She had to sit still for another hour! But it was okay because there was a chair
next to a pillar. The pillar was cool
and smooth against her cheek and it didn’t mind if she squeezed it. When she squeezed it, all of her wiggles and
worries came out and she felt calmer and safe.
But one horrible day, there was
another kid in the pillar seat. In her pillar seat. The Little Girl couldn’t take it. She had been good through the long service
and now she couldn’t hug her pillar. So
she tried to push the other kid out of her chair. She forgot her indoor voice and indoor
manners because her brain was on fire.
The Teachers didn’t know what to do.
So they made the Little Girl leave.
Later, the Grownup In Charge told
the Little Girl’s Mother that the Little Girl was naughty. That she had to leave because naughty Little Girls
made the good little boys and girls “anxious.”
That maybe the Little Girl just needed some time away and could behave
the next time she came back. He said the
Teachers never wanted the Little Girl to sit next to her pillar again because
it was “distracting.” The Mother tried
to explain how the Little Girl needed her seat.
That she needed extra help to sit still.
The Grownup said all of the other good little boys and girls didn’t get
special treatment and told the Mother again that the Little Girl wasn’t allowed
to sit there in class again. The Little Girl
cried. The Mother cried. They’d both heard this before. Everywhere except school where the teachers
loved the Little Girl and worked as hard as she did to try to help her
understand the world, in fact.
But this was the first time they’d
heard that they weren’t welcome in church just as they were. So they cried and cried.
II
“So,”
the Grownup In Charge told the Mother.
“We are a volunteer-run program.
And we couldn’t find an aide trained for your daughter. The only para-professional we could find who
would work for free is Jesus.”
“Seriously? Isn’t he gone?”
“Well,
no. He rose from the dead, see,” the
Grownup shook his head at the Mother as if this should be obvious.
“Oh. Okay.
Great.” The Mother walked away to
get a donut at coffee hour.
“Excuse
me, Mr. Grownup?” Jesus asked.
“Yes?”
“The
Little Girl and I are going to need to sit by the pillar.”
“But
. . .”
“Thanks,
my good friend!” Jesus clapped the Grownup
in Charge on the back and led the Little Girl to her chair.
“I
can sit here?” The Little Girl asked.
“Well,
yeah.
I mean, the pillar feels cool and smooth on your cheek. You can hug it and it doesn’t even
care!” Jesus wrapped his arms around the
pillar. It seemed to glow a little. “And watch this. If you try, you can kind of climb it . . .”
“Excuse
me, Jesus? Could you please take your
seat? We have to start our lesson about
. . . um . . . You,” said the Teacher.
“Yes! Sorry!
Just had to get that out. Go
ahead,” Jesus said. “Your Teachers are
really nice. They are good eggs, they
just don’t know what to do with us pillar-huggers sometimes,” Jesus whispered
to the Little Girl.
“Jesus. Hush.”
Said the Teachers.
The
Little Girl giggled.
A
few minutes passed and the Little Girl noticed a thread in her pants had come
undone. It looked messy on her neat,
favorite leggings. A tiny flame flicked in
her brain. She looked up at Jesus.
Jesus
raised his hand.
“Excuse
me, Teacher? Hey, yeah, can all of the
kids get out of their seats and maybe jump up and down for, like, a
minute? Yeah. A minute should do it.”
The
Teacher looked at Jesus as if he had three heads. But He was the Son of Man so they had to
listen.
After
jumping, the Little Girl felt much better.
The thread had fallen off. It
must have just been from her coat.
After
class the Little Girl needed to hug her pillar one more time. “Did you ever get in trouble when you were a
kid, Jesus?” she asked.
“Oh
man. This one time, I snuck away from my
mom and dad because I wanted to listen in the Temple. And they thought I’d been saviornapped. When they found me, I told them that
obviously I would be learning about God.
That made them even more annoyed and I wasn’t allowed figs for dessert
for, like, a month.” Jesus shook his
head and chuckled. “It might not have
been a sin, but my parents were still pretty miffed.”
“Hmmm.” The Little Girl thought for a minute. She was actually very good with words when
her brain wasn’t on fire. “Do you know
what the spectrum is, Jesus? Do you know
what it means if you’re on it?”
Jesus
shrugged. “When I hear spectrum, I just
think of the rainbow. All those
beautiful colors. Do you know the story
of the rainbow?”
“Yes! With Noah! I do hear everything in class even though it looks like I'm not paying attention!”
“Yup. It’s a sign’s of God’s love and promises. Well, that and maybe evidence that my Dad
might have overreacted with the whole world-ending natural disaster thing. But that’s a discussion for eternity.” Jesus rolled his eyes. “Parents, amIright?”
The
Little Girl giggled.
“So
I am allowed to be here?” she asked.
“Of
course, my Precious One. I promise that
everyone is allowed to be here. Just as they
are. Like I said, I think the spectrum is beautiful!”
Jesus hugged the
pillar one final time and everyone nearby laughed.
Perfection can appear pretty strange sometimes.
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