The Pain of a Child

Yesterday, I experienced one of the hardest moments yet, and it was a rare, quiet, and unforgettable moment that will live with me forever.  Although I have changed the setting for my own reasons, the setting is not important to the depth of this story which is very real,  and that I will share in English.

After a few minutes with his head buried in his pulled-up knees, I approached a solitary little boy on a park bench.  I had been watching as he sat alone.  As someone who works with children on a daily basis, I decided to take the chance to speak with him.  So I sat near him and asked him if he was alright.  He simply shifted further away from me on the concrete bench.  We sat in silence.  After a bit, he looked up at me and I saw tears brimming in his sweet brown eyes.  I gave him a smile, told him my name, and asked him how old he was.  He responded with 5 fingers...wow...just 5-years-old...and seemingly so alone.  I asked if something was upsetting him, and he buried his head back into its hiding place with no response.  Again, we sat in silence.  Finally, I asked if something had happened at his house...and he shook his head "yes."  My heart dropped into my stomach.  I began to have a sinking feeling that there was something this little 5-year-old boy did not want to share with me; possibly something dark, secretive, and hurtful.

I turned towards him, and he shifted further away.  So, I asked the question that tickled the back of my mind and worried me the most: "are you hurt?"  He shook his head "no", but his next words stunned me.  He looked into my eyes and said "me duele mi corazon."..."My heart hurts." 

Suddenly, the boy of so few words shocked me with his most honest secret...he continued to look up at me with tears in his eyes and said that "I don't want to be around people, I just want to go somewhere else, far, far away, where no one will yell at me, and I can't get in trouble, and where I'm not a bad boy."

Echoing in my head "bad boy, bad boy, bad boy, niño malo, niño malo, niño malo."

My heart shattered for him.  At that moment, no matter the fact that I was twenty years older than he, I told him the following: "I feel the same way sometimes, and I cry too.  I just want to have wings like a bird so I can fly away to a place where everything is beautiful and happy and all of my problems are gone.  No one can yell at me, the sun shines every day, and my crying turns into smiles...and there is a lot of candy!"

He giggled.  The most beautiful sound I could have heard and as his sad face turned into a smile, a single tear broke free and rolled down his cheek.