and she sparkled…


..and she sparkled. By Joan Steffend

There once was a little girl…
…and she sparkled.

She lived in her magnificence, singing and dancing wherever life took her.

In the morning, a finger of sunlight would reach gently through the blinds and tackle her awake, and she round leap from her bed, looking for joy wherever she could find it.

And she found it…with her toes in the grass, her tiny hands around a dandelion, her hair tangled from the possibilities for fun that swirled around her.

She was enough.

At night she would snuggle under her covers, barely able to wait for the dreams that would take her to even greater places and set set the stage for the next day.

One morning, though, the sunlight felt sharp, stabbing at sleepy eyes. A little grumble escaped her mouth as she stumbled out of bed.
She did dance that day, but not as joyfully…and not as she had the day before.

And that night, she punched her pillow, waiting for sleep to take her away from the day. Away.

Slowly, the people around her noted with pride that the little girl was growing up.
Learning to act ‘mature’ is what they called it.
They were doing their jobs well.

And so the little girl, became a big girl, nicely folding her hands in her lap as she sat very still…
wondering why she felt so alone.

There was still a part of her that felt like dancing and singing but that wasn’t acceptable most of the time.

It might disturb someone.
It might not be appropriate.
It most certainly wasn’t useful.

So, as the girl grew, she would lock the door of her room when the others left and sing and dance and ‘visit’ the little girl inside…
being careful to be a little quiet so she could hear if anyone returned.

The girl grew and became ever more dutiful.

No one saw her dance. No one heard her sign. She memorized the answers other gave her for who she was…
And soon…it seemed…even she forgot her little girl.

To be sure, there were days, when it looked as though the girl was happy,
But the smiles were usually on the outside, and not the inside.

Life went on for the girl–now a woman. And her life looked a lot like everyone else’s.

She was told that was success.

“Life,” they said, “is all about fitting in. Don’t ask questions. It makes us all a little uncomfortable, and you dont want that.”

So the woman spent her days waking up and waiting to fall asleep again.

She wasn’t aware the little girl was patiently waiting for her…
Reaching out in small ways.

But one morning, she felt a familiar tickle. The sunlight played on her face for a moment and it made her smile.
An energy she hadn’t felt in some time lifted her out of bed.
She sensed something familiar and yet…somehow, it was new.

That day was more ordinary than not, but from time to time, she was filled with hope, which rose in waves and then disappeared into the ordinary.

She went to bed that might happier than usual, but slightly confused at what the day had been about.

The next day dawned and the woman, again, sensed something familiar and exciting in the sunlight. In fact, she felt so alive in that moment, she danced out of bed and down the hall
Silently…so no one would hear her.

Moments in the day found her quietly humming to herself…dancing in her dreams, while she lived the life she thought she should.

She went to bed that night, not as anxious to sleep as anxious to be awake again. The month went on that way with joy dancing…just below the surface of the woman.

As the years went by, the woman became bolder, discovering things about herself she had somehow forgotten.

She spent time every day hungrily uncovering pieces of a little girl from long ago.

As the years went by, the woman became bolder, discovering things about herself she had somehow forgotten.

She spent time every day hungrily uncovering pieces of a little girl from long ago.

She decided she could no longer only be the person others expected to see. She was that, but she was so much more. She had always been so much more.

She decided to share who she was with the world and with herself. There was magic to be remembered…and there was that urgent and now familiar rhythm that kept her dancing…and looking for new songs to sing.

Some people didn’t really like that. They had come to depend on her the way she used to be.
Now she made some of them uncomfortable, even angry.

“Are people really supposed to listen to their own rhythm and dance?” they asked.
“Or should they march in the quiet lines laid out for them?”

It didn’t matter to her. She didn’t want to tell anyone else what to do.
The only thing that mattered to the woman was the voice of the little girl living in her heart…whispering softly that she was, indeed, enough.
She was magnificent…

…and she sparkled.

About the post

inspiration, Self Discovery

4 Comments

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  1. This is lovely – sparkling, even. Very sweet and raw all at once…

  2. It reminds me of a bit in Coelho’s The Alchemist about the way our hearts react to our “maturity.” It’s a good book.

  3. reminds me of when i was loved… heartbreaking and beautiful.

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