The curled bark crackled beneath her dusty sandals. Walking home from school on a warm summer afternoon was a time her eight year old heart enjoyed. It was les than a mile in distance but there was a huge divide between her life at school and the safety of home. So much had changed for this little girl in the three short years of being a "big girl" and heading off to the primary school only one farm over, down the country track. At home she had remained the treasured only daughter, spoilt by parents and adored by her brothers. At school she had been forced to take on the garb of outcast, a dress she was in the process of remodeling into class clown.
School had started well enough.
Her brothers were still there the first year and their status had sheltered her from bullies. Her first teacher had also been young and full of compassion for her charges. The first year saw tears only when her mother kept her home because she was unwell. She loved her teacher, she loved the learning this new world exposed her to, and she had a best friend in the principals son, Shane.
The following year saw the edges of this perfect picture begin to fray and fade. Her teacher was transferred, as was the principal, taking Shane with him. Her new teacher had just returned to teaching following the tragic death of her 19 year old son. The trauma and shadow of death still played constantly in her heart, making it cold towards these young ones with life so evident in their chatter and giggles. There was little patience for the young girl acting out due to her own grief in losing her best friend and precious teacher.
Two years of anger and ridicule by both teacher and classmates had changed the perfect picture to a faded image of what life was meant to be for any eight year old.
Learning had now become an ordeal.
The divide between home and school widened as her brothers went off to secondary schooling.
The two worlds could not be reconciled inside the child's mind, and so she developed the ability to create two personas, one to handle the trauma of school, and the second to enjoy the safety of home without allowing the darkness to creep in and spoil her whole world.
And so it was, this walk home that allowed her the time and solitude to make the change from one to the other. Initially she had run the whole way home, eager to get back to her paradise, but now there was a deliberate purpose for the journey. A way of shaking off the pain and negative messages impacting her soul.
The slender white eucalypts had shed their summer skin, leaving the thin curls of bark strewn across her path. She enjoyed the crunching sound and turned her face upwards to say thank you to the sweet smelling lemon gums. A little further on, she squatted at an ant nest to marvel at the business and strength of workers carrying loads larger than themselves towards their hole, busily preparing for the winter ahead. Maybe an older, wiser set of eyes may have seen the message from the ants, that winter and loss comes to all worlds, even those we try so hard to protect.
With each step more of the day was shaken off, and finally crossing the road into the gateway of her family's small farm, she was able to once more become the beloved child.
On one of his crash landings he happened to have a friend on board who was quite convinced they were about to die. Her fears were briefly allayed when they scrambled out of the wreck with a few bruises, but then her distraught husband sped past them in his panic to find the downed plane. Obviously having watched too many episodes of Ghost Whisperer, she turned to Rod with horror in her voice, "Oh no! He can't see us.... We are dead!"
