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Dinner for Two

Tonight Jane and I ate dinner alone. Everyone else was either out of the house or had fallen asleep early. I pointed out that we were having a special time together and she was immediately enthralled.  You can literally watch her whole being inflate with joy when she's happy. It's a beautiful thing.

She often goes back and repeats what has become a script about why she lives at our house when we're alone (she never brings up the topic if anyone else is around, even Kate). This time she said her usual handful of sentences, but then she said something new.

She said, "I didn't feel safe there. I don't want to go back."

Wow.

That absolutely floored me.  True she's never acted like she did want to go back, has never asked to be with her bio mother, but still, this was so blunt. And whereas she's been rather robotic the last few times she recited her script, this time there was real emotion in her voice.

Then she went on adding details about an incident of physical violence she witnessed and heard, who was involved, where it occurred, what she did, etc.

Another window into this little girl's world.

I wonder what I should be doing with these memories. I think she won't remember them forever so should I try to record them now, as close to verbatim as I can get, in a journal for her? Or is that too morbid and it's best to late nature do its work--let her talk it out now and then let the memories fade as the stories get old?

The verbal grenade she dropped was over as quickly as it came. Next she was talking about something fun she wanted to do.

And she was so buoyant afterwards! Genuinely joyful, not silly distraction. She crawled up in my lap, hugged me, cuddled with me during prayers and story time. Went to bed without tears and her eyelids drooping peacefully.

This girl. She takes me on a journey almost every day. 

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