Loving That Little Girl

There are some songs that I sing a lot. There are others that don’t get sung so often. Until last week, one of my songs had only been sung twice since its birth in 2007. I think I’ll sing it more often from this point forward, though. Its message seems to resonate with many more people than I realized.

I wrote this song after a friend shared with me a poignant image.

She spoke of herself as a seven-year-old girl, feeling lost and alone, thinking that her babysitter violating her had been her fault. Though she grew into a relatively happy and well-loved woman, there was always part of her that remained that lonely seven-year-old, carrying deep guilt and feeling that something in her had deserved the hurt, that something in her wasn’t good enough. At the age of 30, however, after going to counseling, she found the courage to turn to that little girl, embrace her, tell her that it wasn’t her fault, that she loved her, and allow her the space to heal from wounds that had been stifled into a tiny yet powerful part of self.

We all have parts of ourselves that have been broken. We all have parts of ourselves that we try to leave in the past or that we begrudgingly drag behind us. Whether it be some form of abuse, a deep level of shame, a paralyzing sense of guilt, an entrenched thought of not being good enough, or anything else, we all carry with us a broken "child" that needs to be told that he/she is loved and that they are okay.

When I was in the first grade, my mom slipped down the steps in our house and broke her ankle. She passed out when my dad tried to set the bone and had to be carried to the hospital in an ambulance. For most of my life, I thought that my mom’s broken ankle was my fault because she had gone to get a monogrammed sweater for me. When she told me that she had gone to get other things as well and that she hadn’t blamed me at all, I was able to speak to that sad little first grader who stood at her dresser drawer alone and tried to pick out a matching outfit and tell her that it was okay—that it wasn’t her fault—and I was able to feel a sense of relief.

Today is my niece’s fifth birthday. When I think about her innocence and sheer love of life, I cannot help but celebrate life with her and thank God for the gift that she is. I don’t want her ever to hurt. I don’t want her heart to get broken or her knees to get skinned or her eyes to fill with tears because someone has said something mean to her. Yet I know that those things will happen. Life comes with hurt. But hurt can come with healing when we stop and embrace the broken parts of ourselves and help those around us do the same.

In a few minutes, I will leave the hospital where my niece was born and go to her house to give her a huge hug. I will look her in the eyes and tell her that I love her and pray prayers of protection around her from the deep evils of this world. In so doing, I will also embrace my seven/thirty year friend’s spirit and thank God that healing can always come—that we are never so far away from peace that we can’t cry out, “Hear me. Love me. Hold me. Heal me,” and trust that it will be so.

Thirty and Seven
4/28/07

Excuse me, sir, can you help me
I am looking for a girl
She’s around the age of seven
Her hair in brown curls
She spends a lot of time with grandma
And grandpa at their house
Her mom and dad aren’t around a lot
And I can hear her crying out

Hear me, love me
Hold me, heal me

You see, sir, I’m a teacher
And I am 30 years old
The little girl was in my classroom
But she must have since changed homes
When I taught her she was hurting
Yet I never made the time
To listen to her story
Yet now I know her story’s mine

Hear me, love me
Hold me, heal me

I’ve got to find her, sir, her hand is reaching for my heart
She needs a friend, I can be a friend—life cannot tear her apart
I’ve got to show her—let her know—that she has done nothing wrong
I’ve got to speak the truth to her—to sit and help freedom’s song

She’s crying hear me, love me
Hold me, heal me

I’m crying hear me, love me
Hold me, heal me

We’re crying hear me, love me
Hold me, heal me

Excuse me, sir, can you help me
I am looking for a girl
She’s around the age of seven
Her hair in brown curls