There once was a young girl named Heather who lived with her mom in a small home in the suburbs. Her daddy had left them a few years ago. She couldn't remember the last time she wasn't woken up in the middle of the night by her mom's torrential sobbing and wailing. She had grown so accustomed to it, in fact, that she would have been alarmed if one night it didn't happen.
She didn't know how to console her mom, and she gradually gave up the task of trying to figure it out. If her mother was going to be miserable then that was her own perogative. Besides, the numbness that consumed her inner world was slowly taking over every waking moment of her existence. There was no way she could feel anything, let alone warmth and sympathy, even if she wanted to. Little Heather Jones was now a twelve-year-old icicle.
One afternoon while sitting in front of the television in a mindless daze, she heard a knock on the front door. She waited for her mom to answer it, but after a couple of minutes passed she decided to get up and do it herself. Standing on her tiptoes to look through the peephole, Heather saw two gentlemen in black suits waiting patiently. She slowly opened the door just enough to poke her head through then mumbled, "Uhh, can I help you?"
The suit on the right spoke. "Hello, young lady, is your mommy or daddy home?" he asked in a tone much more suited for a five-year-old. "My daddy left us and my mom is curled up in a ball somewhere crying her eyes out. What's it to you?" she replied snottily.
The suits exchanged a look she didn't recognize, and now the left one spoke up. "I guess it can't hurt to tell you. What's your name, sweetheart?" "It's Heather, and I'm not your sweetheart," she spat out. "Okay, Heather, you need to listen very carefully to what I'm about to tell you."
Heather shifted from one foot to the other, wishing these jerks would hurry up and leave. "Your mother is in grave danger. She hasn't paid her taxes in a number of years, and if the feds get ahold of her then you will probably not be able to see your mommy for a long time."
Heather wasn't sure what they were talking about, but something suddenly started boiling inside of her, melting the ice. "My mom would never do anything wrong!! She's just a sad woman who wants to be left alone, so GO AWAY!!" She wasn't sure why she was defending her, but something about the situation made her want to push and kick and scream until she couldn't move a muscle. Slamming the door in their faces, Heather ran upstairs to her mom's bedroom.
"Mom? Mom!" she called desperately, searching the usual hiding places. She found her mother in the closet, just as she expected, curled up in a ball, sobbing quietly into her hands. "Hey, Mom, I need to ask you something," she said while sitting on the floor next to her. Her mom didn't respond; just kept sobbing uncontrollably, like a steady November rain.
"Mom! I'm serious. You would never do anything wrong...would you?"
Heather pleaded, wondering to herself why this was so important to her. Her mom groaned in the back of her throat, like a chained animal wanting to be free or to be put out of its misery. Either was a welcome relief for both of them at this point. "I don't know, Heather, why don't you just leave your mother in peace."
"That's just it, though, Mom, you're NOT at peace!! I can't remember the last time you were at peace! Maybe you've never been."
She grabbed her mom by the shoulders and forced her to raise up into a sitting position. Looking at her mom's puffy, swollen eyes, cracked lips, and defeated expression made her want to shake her over and over again. Maybe if she shook her hard enough she would finally snap out of this pitiful existence she has sunken into. Maybe she'll be "herself" again, whatever that means.
Suddenly a light bulb lit up inside of her. "I can't sit here and let you do this to yourself, Mom! I just can't!! And now it looks like you've gone and gotten yourself into some kind of trouble. Don't you CARE?!!"
"No, honey, I don't care," her mom mumbled, laying down in the fetal position again. "This isn't who you are, Mom!! Every second that passes is a chance to be pure again! Wake up, Mommy, please just wake up!!!"
"What are you talking about, Heather, I can never be pure again. Who told you this nonsense?!"
"No one did, Mommy, I figured it out on my own. When those men told me you did something wrong I realized that that's not who you are. Since that's not who you are I saw that nothing you do or believe about yourself could be who you are. They're simply choices we make based on our circumstances. You have never been impure, Mom, it's just your mind that's impure. Wake up, Mommy, please wake up."
At this point, Heather was laying on her lap, hugging her around her waist, sending all of her energy to her in the hope that it would start a fire. Suddenly her body jolted, and Heather raised up cautiously afraid of what she was about to witness.
Much to her surprise, her mom's face started changing shape. There was a light in her eyes Heather had never seen before, and a youthfulness swept over her features giving her a sweet look of childlike joy. She grinned the biggest grin in the world, and breathed a happy sigh of relief. She jumped to her feet, pulled her daughter up with her and danced and danced with her to the sound of their youthful laughter.
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