tough

Arms folded tightly across her chest, she gives me the stare down.  She sits upright in bed and communicates definitively with her eyes, "I will not lie down. I have no interest in doing what you say.  I will fight you and I intend to win."  No words are needed.  Her jaw is set and she is one determined and tough little girl.  She had proven it all day long - challenging, defying, pushing buttons.

"I understand, B.  You didn't ask to come here and you probably don't want to be here.  Everything is new and scary.  I'm sure you miss your mommy, and I know she misses you too.  She loves you, B, and we love having you here."

Eyes still set on mine, she jerks clenched little fists quickly up to her eyes, one right after the other, to wipe away tears she doesn't want me to see.  Because, you know, she's tough and will not let her guard down.  She's a fighter and weakness will not be allowed.

Soon my own cheeks are streaked and, unlike our new little love, I don't try to hide them.  Because I see before me a broken, hurt, alone and afraid little girl, no matter how she tries to disguise it.  My heart hurts for her.  This time when I scoop her up, she doesn't act repulsed and pull away.  Though her frown remains and her arms are still crossed, she lets me hold her.  Slowly, her head drops to my chest and her body relaxes.  It was our first break through.