Diamond

Giving is something that I relish. I love to see the look in people's eyes. That moment of shear enjoyment and spontaneous gratitude on their face. And I do it, because I can. It makes me giddy. I'm not looking for anything, just the beautiful moment that an act of kindness or giving can elicit. That moment when emotion gives back to my heart.

Yes, that heart that I wear on my sleeve. Many a reason and story surround my psychological compunction to "love" as I do. I see "love", in terms of a decidedly Anglo definition, in a different context and set with different semantics than those in my society and culture.

I choose to believe in a "higher entity". Call that what you will, the most common of references is God, with a capital "G". This entity has no defined gender or numeration. It is, just God. I also choose, in a somewhat traditional fashion, to believe in the Christian purpose of Christ. To a greater degree, this human that we call Jesus, is not, in my mind, what most of the Christian world would define. But, that is for a later day. Tangents are distracting.

Put that short and cryptic belief statement together and I believe in the inherent worth and dignity of every human being. As Jesus taught us. And showed us how to apply. (Remember, I'm working to avoid serious tangents.) Love one another, as I have loved you.

My accumulation of life and experience didn't imbue me with the desires to act such until I was able to balance me, as a human. Anxiety under control, (delusional behavior has it's advantages...) I am venturing into territory that would have ruined me even a short time ago. Let's face it, I can't pass up a damn stray, make it human and I'm wreck. And so, in my drunken enthusiasm at being involved in my new job, I have encountered my first "Mom" moment. That animal instinct that one has in defense of another less able to defend themselves. If you know me in real life, we call it my "Mama Bear". My proclivity to protect children I love. Friday, it was a beautiful, vacant eyed girl. A diamond that comes in to hang out. A human that silently screams for the "mother" that we all deserve to have.

She has a "lost boy" look in her eyes. She looks like she might be pregnant, or, have a distended stomach due to malnutrition. She is quiet. She is apologetic. She watches everything around her like an animal ever alert. She is accompanied by a larger group that collectively waft of the New York subway. It take all my strength to smile, nod, shoo everyone out at closing, and get in my yuppie, upper-middle class car, and drive home to my upper-middle class neighborhood. And, leave, her, there.

After work, when I've seen her at work, I come home to the little world of dysfunction that I have created. Offspring still awake, pseudonymous husband snoring in the bedroom, kitchen not clean and a general sense of semi-chaos and I climb in next to my snoozing romeo, and cry.

Where does Diamond go? Where does she sleep? What if she is pregnant? Who loves her? Who is her cheerleader? She is entitled to what every American girl dreams of, love, dignity and a family that will love and lift her up. A shopping trip to Forever 21 and Dahlia's wouldn't hurt. That amazing human, whether you choose to deify him or not, also said, "suffer the little children to come unto me and forbid them not." I wish I could give that to her.

But, alas, I cannot. So, every night, she disappears into the darkness, and I drive home to a world that can conveniently ignore her. Sleep well Diamond.