eigenartig

I happened to be walking past her room when I heard the Legos clatter across the hardwood floor and crunch off the baseboard.

"Did you just throw those?!" I entered and walked towards her.

That little girl was on her knees, alone in the middle of her room. Her arms were folded, jaw set with firmness. The furrow between her brows was deep enough to plant potatoes in. She was so upset that she couldn't answer me.

I leaned down to make eye contact. Her stormy blue eyes locked on to mine. Still not a word. I sat cross-legged in front of her. She sat, too.

Silence.

I had always been able to wait her out. Finally, her look softened into that look. You know the one. The look that children give adults at a time like this. Her hands were clasped and her bottom lip trembled ever so slightly. "I asked Julie today if she wanted to come over after school to play."

"She didn't want to come?" I said.

"No."

Silence.

"She told me that her friends were coming over to her house after school."

"Julie didn't ask you to come over?"

My brave godchild shook her head, eyes shiny, but not one tear did she shed. She sniffed then, raised her chin, and said, "I'm a tough cookie."

"Come on! Let's go get some ice cream."

A little smile. But she didn't stand up quite yet. "They think I'm weird."

"They don't know the meaning of the word. You'll see. One day you'll find another little girl who understands what weird is all about. And you two will get along and become good, good friends."

A grin appeared. "We just have to find each other."

"Ja. And since the world is such a big place, it might take some time. But she's out there somewhere."

"I hope we find each other soon. She probably likes ice cream, too."

"I'm sure of it. Come on then!"

We stood up. She slipped her hand into mine as we left the house to walk towards the ice cream place.