She even had one for Ella and pronounced her Troop 402's unofficial Girl Scout sprout.
The meeting was to be followed by a sleepover. Clare's first one on her own, family notwithstanding. A real life actual sleepover with girls and giggles and pizza and cookies. Ohmylands! This was a big deal. She packed her bag Saturday morning, took it to the car Sunday afternoon and then paced the house in anticipation until we (fiiiiinally) left the house at 4.
For the first time in her six year life, I saw my girl willingly walk that fine line between excitement and fear. For years, I have told her they feel the same in our bodies and that we can pick which one we feel. For years I've encouraged her to breathe through the fear and focus on what she does know about the new thing she is walking into. For years, she has chosen fear, often crying and clinging, but wanting something different. Well today she chose something different. She didn't acknowledge her fear out loud. Not once. I saw it. She let me glimpse it on her face, in her hands, in her questions. But every time it bubbled up, she chose excitement instead. She willingly melted into it, found her smile and went back to her bag, her blankie, her teddy bear. Comfort. Well placed, available and (for the first time) enough. After the ceremony, she teetered on the edge, but maintained her balance.
You can see it in her kangaroo arms, her tentative smile. I stayed on the fringes for a half hour or so and watched her play games, glancing at me with her nervous smile. Before I left, I reminded her to call me if she needed to touch base. She gave me a last hug, burying her face in my belly. Then she willingly let go. I got this picture an hour later.
Later in the evening, my sweet friend dropped in to give her daughter some medicine. She said all the girls were screaming, running around the house except our two girls. They were waiting patiently to make cookies and asking their leader if she needed any help. Heart shines. This girl. She made it through the night on her own. No phone calls. I missed her something fierce. And I woke with a new kind of pride in her. I feel a certain honor that I get to guide this sweet, intentional child through the stickier places of her heart. I also woke with a commitment to walk softly when I am there, so that she will continue to touch base with me. As she walks through those sticky places, I learn about her. But I also learn about myself and about life and about God. I become stronger with her and because of our travels together. What a tremendous gift.
Ella must have had some similar realizations, because when she woke up and hugged me, the first thing she uttered was that she hoped sissy was ok. My heart grew a little seeing her love and care, her thoughtfulness. She has dressed up to the nines and is tapping her foot, waiting to go get her sister. She is even taking her coin purse so she can share some of her money. Woah.
