Sunday, December 20, 2009

Mrs. Citizen Take Two

i found myself rushing to wal mart the other day for a few items forgotten for yet another candy making day. i was feeling ill from all of the candy i had consumed in the week which had set off a nasty case of colitis which i became subjected to thru the last pregnancy. (a whole personal post that would make my face red after my recent blogging hiatus.)

hence a shaky mom facing the most unchristmas{y} place on the block. right as i was pulling in to the little planet in and of itself, the world of wally, there was a girl, not more than 16 with some gangly and devious looking friends. this 16 year old girl happened to be pushing a stroller and a stray toddler was tagging behind. now this scene might bear resemblance of normal for the area of town until i paint the part about them being in the middle of the road in no hurry to be safe. i stopped prematurely, trying to muster some christmas nice and let them cross. these "friends" started yelling at one another and going in all different directions. this poor little toddler started following the devious friends into the oncoming lane of traffic until her 16 year old mother grabbed her by the ponytail and dragged her across the road, by her pony tail, dragging her across the road, screaming and crying dragging her by the ponytail, an innocent toddler caught up in the mess.

chalk it up to my new found mrs. citizen self or a case of the christmas blues, but suddenly. my horn was honking at her and thru my closed door window i yelled in that scary voice, "you don't do that!!!" pointing and shaking my hand.

unfortunately this time she yelled words we learned in the ghetto of new haven. my kids were nervous about being in the same car as mrs. citizen and asked why i yelled at the lady. i engaged them in a story about how some moms don't know how to show love or kindness to their kids and are mean. i told them about the incident and how that is not how adults should ever treat children.

my face was hot as a july night in the desert and i was shaking internally with anger. kids have been on my mind as of late. at a young age i knew that i would be lucky to get one. now three miracles later, 4 seems good. i would be happy with 10. you know the drill. sometimes a mothers heart gets pulled in all directions trying to figure out how to collect her family. by now you know i take this family collection stuff seriously. with this very heavy on my mind, this situation seemed all the more saddening to me. here i am, a mother who would love to take that baby in the stroller and the toddler with a pony tail. i would take them and love them, read them stories and tickle their little arms until they fell fast asleep in a safe warm bed where their only worry was what picture to paint when they awoke.

i rushed thru that insane store gathering neatly the needed items and headed for my car. i ran into my mother confessing my mrs. citizen moment that was burning a hole in my heart. the ride home i was determined to do something with this broken heart and this frustration. i was wildly going thru possibilities that i could do that would make the hurt stop. that would make me stop thinking about a little girl who was dragged by her hair that needed a warm fire and a brimming christmas tree with love abounding. in my fury of possibilities i pretended i gathered her up in my arms and took her home with me. we opened presents on christmas morning and talked about the baby jesus.

and then for a moment i thought about the baby jesus. i have been reading from the 4 gospels the past few nights about the miracles that were recorded about this baby. about the fish and the loaves that were enough, the water that calmed, the virgin mary and the babe in the manger that descended below all to be greeted by a faithful woman, a brave joseph and awaiting animals. my thoughts then turned to another bystander that night. the literal father of the babe. i thought about how he watched the dissension below all, a precious son to be given no room at the inn. a father watching brutality and sorrow of a son who trod a lonely path. suddenly i had a place for this hole burning in my heart. i felt christmas. some years pass and we don't get the chance to feel the significance of that lowly manger. i suddenly felt the burden that baby carried as he grew to a man aware of his divine nature. i felt the sorrow and the joy. the joy that adam fell that men might be, and men are that they might have joy. the bystander, that often times i fail to recognize his significant role as a parent, felt the same way i did as he saw that toddler abused. that's why he watched that lowly dissension of his literal son. he knew the price his holy son paid would satisfy the demands of justice and somehow make it up to this toddler and her ponytail. he knows how my heart aches as we try to expand our family through earnest prayer, humble hearts and open minds. he knows. and therefore, he gives us christmas.

1 comment:

Coty said...

Oh my goodness. I'm so glad you are back, Heidi.
i loved this post. I love your brain.
Warm thoughts and prayers to that little girl and her ponytail -she must be a strong spirit, that's how I see it.

Love to ya, and Merry Christmas!