The other day I was talking with a young person whose soul seemed older than time. She was so young, yet so wise. And she was lonely. She expressed how no one seemed to want to include her in their activities and she couldn’t understand why. She reasoned that she was kind, thoughtful, intelligent, talented, and not a threat to anyone’s social status (pretty deep for an eleven year old - see what I mean about an old soul?). She knew she was not one of the “popular” girls, and she didn’t mind. That wasn’t her goal. She told me she really likes school - especially reading and social studies. But she'd like to be included sometimes. Like recess, or lunch. She reassured, it’s okay, she brings books to read. But she came to me because she wanted to know if I could help her reach out and make friends.
Her maturity and her clarity astounded me. She saw the situation for exactly what it was, and she was seeking a rational solution to what she recognized as her temporary situation. Her optimism was a breath of fresh air, and will be her saving grace. So many people, in the face of adversity, feel helpless. She, on the other hand, did not fault herself for her circumstances, and took an appropriate step toward getting help.
I realized that I was talking with a live version of the many fables and fairy tales that have been told to children for generations. These stories represent a common thread that all people, regardless of culture or century, can relate to. In this case, the feeling of being left out: the black sheep; the lone wolf; the ugly duckling. Yet, this old soul seemed to already have come to grips with, and understood, the potential benefits of her suffering. She spoke about the fact that she would rather be by herself reading than hanging out with kids who really didn’t want to be her friend. She expressed excitement about the fact that middle school offers many clubs and activities for all kinds of interests and imagined patiently what it would be like to finally find her own set of friends.
I was reminded of the book, Women Who Run with the Wolves, by Clarissa Pinkola Estes. In it she says, “While exile is not a thing to we desire for the fun of it, there is an unexpected gain from it; the gifts of exile are many. It takes out weakness by the pounding. It removes whininess, enables acute insight, heightens intuition.” My little lone wolf seemed to know that she was paying her dues now, making the best of it, and she truly believed deep down that she would live happily every after. She acknowledged that all of her reading has helped her become a straight ‘A’ student and was proud that she was already thinking about college. And while I did offer her some strategies for socializing with her peers, I was aware that there is a limit to my influence. The politics of the playground can be a tricky game. I am hopeful that her optimism will last and that she stays true to herself in her search for others like her. And some day, when she is President, it will make a great Cinderella story.
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