The Girl Who Always Cried
The Girl Who Always Cried
There was once a little girl who always cried. She lived in the woods with her blind grandmother so she always cried alone. Every morning the girl would go outside the house and walk in the woods alone crying for a friend, crying for someone to talk to. The trees were thick and the sun never seemed to shine on her pale face. Each day she would walk alone in circles hearing only the birds chirping and the twigs cracking beneath her small feet. “If there is a God, why do I cry? If there is a God, why must I be alone?”
She continued on this path further and further until she wasn’t sure where she was anymore, when, up ahead, she spotted a light. She ran forward, tree limbs scraping her face. In this clearing there was nothing but sunlight pouring onto her, its warmth giving her comfort. She sat on the ground and looked at the trees around her, their marvelous beauty giving her inspiration. For a brief moment she stopped crying out of sadness and cried for beauty.
She lay there for a short while in the silence when she heard a soft voice singing to her. “Come with me, you will be safe.”
“What?” She whispered quietly.
“Come with me, you will be safe.”
She wasn’t afraid of the voice; it was as calming as the words it produced. “But…where are you? How can I come if I don’t see you?”
“Come with me, you will be safe,” the voice repeated.
The girl stood up, looking around, but saw no sign of another person. She squinted into the trees but still saw no others.
She ran home, thinking constantly about what she had heard. When she got home her grandmother talked with her. The girl sat in the grandmother’s lap and the grandmother asked, “Dearie, how was your day?”
“It was fine, grandmother,” she replied reluctantly.
“What did you do?” She questioned.
“I walked, I always walk,” the girl said with no emotion.
“How interesting. Now get some rest, Dearie, I’ll not be seeing you tomorrow.” The grandmother laughed and walked into the kitchen and the girl ran off to bed.
The next morning the girl woke up and rolled out of bed. She got dressed slowly and walked alone down the stairs and out of the house. Her path was familiar and as the branches snapped beneath her shoes she cried. She looked up at the trees as she had done so many days before and asked, “If there is a God, why do I cry? If there is a God, why is my world so blind, as is my grandmother?”
There was no answer to the girl’s questions and she continued along the path when she spotted something on the ground. There were light prints. She hovered her own shoe over the prints that had been left behind and they were the same size. “Mine?” The girl pondered.
She followed the prints along the fresh path until she found herself in the clearing she had discovered the previous day. “Oh!” She gasped; its beauty seemingly had slipped her memory. She did not lie down this day but simply walked along the edge of the round clearing. She gazed upwards at the sky and stopped crying.
The wind began to blow and the girl started to shiver. She had not brought a jacket and winter was approaching. The wind grew stronger and stronger and the girl began to fear for her limbs were so cold. She knelt on the ground holding herself to keep warm, to no avail. She sat, then, looking up and began to cry as she had done so often before. She did not ask where the voice was now, she simply stated, “It’s…too….cold….”
Her eyes began to close and, feeling an absence of hope, she tilted toward the ground. Ready to lie down one last time, she drifted over when suddenly a small voice rang in her ear like a tinkling bell, “Stay with me, I will keep you safe.” She stopped falling. She felt another’s arms around her and she was propped comfortably in somebody’s lap.
“Stay?” She asked, “But I never ‘came’, how can I stay?”
“Stay with me, I will keep you safe.” The voice would only repeat this one line, so the girl lay there in the arms of another. She began to feel warm and a gentle hand brushed away the tears that dotted her cheeks. She looked up toward the person, opening her eyes, but saw nobody there. It did not bother her. “Thank you,” she breathed quietly and got up. She ran home, smiling.
She burst in the door of her home and jumped into her grandmother’s lap as she had never done before. “Goodness! What has gotten into you now Dearie?” her grandmother asked in shock.
“I was walking and…I found something to believe in.”
“Really now?” The grandmother said, still surprised, “And what is it exactly that you have found?”
“I have someone. I can’t see them but I have somebody that will keep me safe. I went to them, they will keep me safe.”
The grandmother frowned at the girl. “Why would you do that? Why would you give your heart to someone you’d never see?”
The girl took a moment to think and then said “Grandmother, you don’t have to see to be safe or to feel or to touch or to hear. I know there is something out there, someone, and they watch me, and they will help me. I can trust them. Can’t you understand?”
The girl began to cry in the grandmother’s lap for the first time, and for the first time, that small family began to understand each other.
“Loving someone beyond the sight of them…Dearie, I couldn’t understand more.”
This was a story meant to be about my life with a twist and it came out very much in this fashion. I was inspired by Michael Jackson's stories "The Boy and The Pillow" and "The Fish That Was Thirsty."
She continued on this path further and further until she wasn’t sure where she was anymore, when, up ahead, she spotted a light. She ran forward, tree limbs scraping her face. In this clearing there was nothing but sunlight pouring onto her, its warmth giving her comfort. She sat on the ground and looked at the trees around her, their marvelous beauty giving her inspiration. For a brief moment she stopped crying out of sadness and cried for beauty.
She lay there for a short while in the silence when she heard a soft voice singing to her. “Come with me, you will be safe.”
“What?” She whispered quietly.
“Come with me, you will be safe.”
She wasn’t afraid of the voice; it was as calming as the words it produced. “But…where are you? How can I come if I don’t see you?”
“Come with me, you will be safe,” the voice repeated.
The girl stood up, looking around, but saw no sign of another person. She squinted into the trees but still saw no others.
She ran home, thinking constantly about what she had heard. When she got home her grandmother talked with her. The girl sat in the grandmother’s lap and the grandmother asked, “Dearie, how was your day?”
“It was fine, grandmother,” she replied reluctantly.
“What did you do?” She questioned.
“I walked, I always walk,” the girl said with no emotion.
“How interesting. Now get some rest, Dearie, I’ll not be seeing you tomorrow.” The grandmother laughed and walked into the kitchen and the girl ran off to bed.
The next morning the girl woke up and rolled out of bed. She got dressed slowly and walked alone down the stairs and out of the house. Her path was familiar and as the branches snapped beneath her shoes she cried. She looked up at the trees as she had done so many days before and asked, “If there is a God, why do I cry? If there is a God, why is my world so blind, as is my grandmother?”
There was no answer to the girl’s questions and she continued along the path when she spotted something on the ground. There were light prints. She hovered her own shoe over the prints that had been left behind and they were the same size. “Mine?” The girl pondered.
She followed the prints along the fresh path until she found herself in the clearing she had discovered the previous day. “Oh!” She gasped; its beauty seemingly had slipped her memory. She did not lie down this day but simply walked along the edge of the round clearing. She gazed upwards at the sky and stopped crying.
The wind began to blow and the girl started to shiver. She had not brought a jacket and winter was approaching. The wind grew stronger and stronger and the girl began to fear for her limbs were so cold. She knelt on the ground holding herself to keep warm, to no avail. She sat, then, looking up and began to cry as she had done so often before. She did not ask where the voice was now, she simply stated, “It’s…too….cold….”
Her eyes began to close and, feeling an absence of hope, she tilted toward the ground. Ready to lie down one last time, she drifted over when suddenly a small voice rang in her ear like a tinkling bell, “Stay with me, I will keep you safe.” She stopped falling. She felt another’s arms around her and she was propped comfortably in somebody’s lap.
“Stay?” She asked, “But I never ‘came’, how can I stay?”
“Stay with me, I will keep you safe.” The voice would only repeat this one line, so the girl lay there in the arms of another. She began to feel warm and a gentle hand brushed away the tears that dotted her cheeks. She looked up toward the person, opening her eyes, but saw nobody there. It did not bother her. “Thank you,” she breathed quietly and got up. She ran home, smiling.
She burst in the door of her home and jumped into her grandmother’s lap as she had never done before. “Goodness! What has gotten into you now Dearie?” her grandmother asked in shock.
“I was walking and…I found something to believe in.”
“Really now?” The grandmother said, still surprised, “And what is it exactly that you have found?”
“I have someone. I can’t see them but I have somebody that will keep me safe. I went to them, they will keep me safe.”
The grandmother frowned at the girl. “Why would you do that? Why would you give your heart to someone you’d never see?”
The girl took a moment to think and then said “Grandmother, you don’t have to see to be safe or to feel or to touch or to hear. I know there is something out there, someone, and they watch me, and they will help me. I can trust them. Can’t you understand?”
The girl began to cry in the grandmother’s lap for the first time, and for the first time, that small family began to understand each other.
“Loving someone beyond the sight of them…Dearie, I couldn’t understand more.”
This was a story meant to be about my life with a twist and it came out very much in this fashion. I was inspired by Michael Jackson's stories "The Boy and The Pillow" and "The Fish That Was Thirsty."