Christmas came early yesterday and it was a great day. I say that with a broad sweep of memory, but there were moments when it felt we had gone back a full year in our healing process. How many times do I need to remind myself:

Children with a history of trauma/neglect must eat every two hours.

I am like a student who needs to write this sentence on the blackboard 300 times before I can join the other children at recess.

As I was lying awake this morning thinking of all that I still need to do before we leave on our trip, these thoughts kept coming to my mind. Although I already said my goodbyes and have left my blog in the hands of competent Guest Authors, I had to sit down and write this out.

Yesterday my Dimples was playing happily, but as the morning progressed, I felt I was watching her inch toward the edge of a cliff. At first it wasn’t too noticeable. She was a little irritable, quick and jumpy in her movements, shouting out what her siblings gifts were as they were opening them, and making us all a little edgy. Her smile was too big, her eyes too bright, her voice too loud; she was on high alert.

Once the gifts were opened I focused on preparing the dinner we planned to eat mid-afternoon. But it seemed Russ and I were continually needed to calm things down, diffuse situations, navigate disagreements, etc. Dimples was edging closer to the edge of the cliff.

I saw it, but I was busy and thought I could prevent her from falling….I would get to her in just a minute.

Then she did it. She ran headlong over the edge.

I tried to grab her to prevent the fall, but I was too late. I hadn’t kept her close enough. I had been “too busy” to keep my own child safe. But God is kind and rather than plummeting to the very bottom, she landed on a small ledge.

She had our attention now. Russ and I scrambled to pull from our Therapeutic Toolbox every tool we could think of .

We let down a rope….we let down several ropes…but she refused to grab hold.

Finally Russ lowered me down and I squeezed onto that tiny ledge with her. With a bowl of some of her favorite potatoes, I pulled her onto my lap and fed her, one bite at a time.

As she slowly ate, I whispered comforting words into her ear, like I would a baby. “Come here little love. Take a bite.”, “I know you’re hungry, this will taste good”, “I love you. It’s going to be okay. You’ll feel better in a moment.”

I kissed her wet cheeks.

She said nothing, only opened her mouth each time the spoon was offered.

Her body relaxed against me. She sighed. I rocked her back and forth in my arms.

We rested and when she was ready, together we climbed back up the wall of the cliff where Russ pulled us over the edge to safety. We smiled, we hugged.

Then we carried the rest of the food to the table, called the family together, and had Christmas dinner….

…where Dimples had three more servings.

~Lisa