The door opened. She looked up from behind her book.
''Now what? Who was it this time who came into the book store
and asked for an e-book,'' she muttered under her breath.
Letting out a sigh she put down her book on the counter,
stood up and said: ''Can I help you?''
Only, she couldn't see anybody.
''Hmm, I am sure I heard someone come in, now
where might they have disappeared to'', she said to herself as
she started to walk up and down the narrow aisles in the book
store.
Strange. Whoever it was seemed to have just vanished.
At the back of the shop there was a cosy corner for
the customers to withdraw to. Aggy, had decided that in his shop,
customers should be able to browse the books before they bought
them, so he had made a cosy corner for them to do so in comfort.
She made her way to the cosy corner.
There, sitting on the worn leather couch, sat a small girl clutching
a big bag.
''Hey, what's your name then?'' she asked the girl as she gently
sat down on one of the armrests on the couch.
The girl didn't answer, instead she clutched her bag closer to her chest.
''It's okay, I'll just tell you my name.
My name is Isabel and I look after this shop.
Can I help you find a book perhaps?" she asked softly.
The little girl shook her head.
''This girl can't be more than eight or something,
what's she doing here all by herself?'' Isabel wondered.
''Are you here all by yourself then?''
The little girl nodded.
''I see, having an adventure are you?''
A few minutes passed and then suddenly the little girl spoke.
''No, I'm not. I have run away from home,'' said the little girl.
''Oh, I see, and why is that then?'' Isabel asked.
''My name is Tiffy, I am nine years old, and I am not stupid!
I have run away from home because all they do at home is fight.
Fight, fight, fight! When they are not fighting, all they do is
play with their phones. I hate those things.
When I try to tell them something, they never listen to me
no matter how hard I try to get their attention.
Yesterday when I came home from school, I tried to tell them that
Ruthie and Bianca always tease me, they call me stupid, and sometimes
they hit me. I was even crying! But mom just kept talking
on her phone and Billy called me a crybaby.
It's not fair!!'' said Tiffy as her bottom lip quivered and tears began
to slowly roll down her cheeks.
''Why did you chose to run away to this book shop, Tiffy?'' asked Isabel.
''Cos I love books, especially books that are happy. Books about
nice people, nice places, about dreams that can come true, and where
people don't pick on you just cos you love books more than
those stupid phones!''
Tiffy dropped her bag on the floor, crossed her arms and looked at
Isabel with eyes sparkling with defiance.
''You know what Tiffy, I ran away from home once too when I was about your age.
''Did you?'' Tiffy asked, ''for real?''
''Yep, just like you, I was also picked on in school, called stupid, strange,
and not normal. I tried to tell my mom and dad just like you, but they
didn't seem to hear me either. For me, music was what made me happy.
Music opened a world for me to escape to when I needed to
get away from hurtful words and feeling as if I was invisible.''
''Isabel?''
''Yes, Tiffy?''
''Why am I not more important to my mom and dad than their phones, and
why do they fight all the time?''
Isabel looked at Tiffy and then decided that she needed to give her a hug.
''Can I please hug you Tiffy?''
Tiffy nodded.
Isabel wrapped her arms around the little girl, pulled her close,
and there they sat, close together in a warm embrace.
Sharing a timeless moment of feeling seen, heard,
and cared for.
I guess that on some level we all know that life at times
bares with it a measure of pain. For some of us, that knowledge
perhaps comes earlier in life than for others. For some of us that
measure may be larger and or heavier than for others.
But where there is life, there is often pain of some kind or another,
....... for all that is alive.
In my view, the paramount question we may need to ask
ourselves is not how to escape pain, but how we can
use it for some sort of gain
as in:
Insight, compassion, wisdom, tolerance, acceptance,
forgiveness, kindness, etc.etc.
Through my life experiences, I have come to view pain this way:
''Joy is a friend, but pain is a teacher.'' (Citizen Z)
(I have a feeling that most of us have ''scars'' (both physical and mental)
remaining from times when we have been hurt,
although perhaps not quite as
obvious as depicted in the painting above.)
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