The dam has burst. The tears are falling; landing on me, on her math book, everywhere.
She looks at me with eyes full of tears, confusion and exhaustion. There is also a look of failure.
She doesn’t understand why this has to be so hard.
Neither do I.
I hold her tight. I wrap my arms, legs and heart around her and hold her ever so tight. I want to squeeze the tears and the pain away. so far away.
We stay like this for awhile then I reach for a book.
It’s a new book. One that we don’t know too much about. But it doesn’t matter because it is a story. A story that she can lose herself in. A story that she can use to forget reality…at least for awhile.
I read the words.
I feel her grip on me loosen.
I feel relief flow throughout her body.
She is now in a park watching a bunch of crows snatching a baby away, out over the town and towards the wilderness.
She has forgotten the tears and the exhaustion that learning deposited upon her just a few minutes ago.
The words have replaced all of that with calm and stillness.
Oh, the power of words and story.