How do you help a child not feel sad when other kids exclude him or her
because of the way he or she looks? How do you keep the Beast of
Terror from running wild in the child, chewing up his or her self worth?
G-Ma Lori uses stories from her rejections and disappointments as a child
to emotionally bandage her granddaughter Sarah's wounds She also turns to
the Rescue Heroes and Sarah's brother Matt for help. Her goal is to
teach Sarah that "inside beauty" is far more powerful than "outside
beauty." Join her as she walks Sarah through the caves of
Intimidation where the Beast of Terror lurks and they both move into the Sunshine
groaned, "I am a girl and I should wear dresses to school all the time.
Cynthia wears pretty dresses every day, not pants, G-Ma. Mommy says I
have to wear pants some days, but Cynthia and even Amanda say dresses are
better." Sarah's usually bright chocolate eyes dimmed. Her brow furled
grouchily downward as she railed on about the morning's activities at her
play with me when I wear pants. They tell me to go play with the boys.
I'm sad about it."
little one, we girls wear pants and dresses. Sometimes when we girls want
to run faster and play harder and be warmer, we wear pants. On special
days, when we girls want to dress up and look especially nice, we can wear
dresses or skirts if we want to."
down and took Sarah's mittened hands in mine and gazed into her troubled
four-year-old soul. It seems the younger a child is, the easier it is to
see deep within them. And, the older children become, the more barricades
block the view to the pain and sorrow children face when others hurt their
Fortunately, I have an edge when it comes to looking into my
granddaughter's soul. I take her to and from preschool every day. We
enjoy the time together not just as grandmother and granddaughter, but
also as sisters and friends, woman and girl, girl and girl. I’m never
quite sure which role I play, for often Sarah has more wisdom on issues
than I. But I know I am blessed. I also get to spend an extra hour and a
half with her after her pre-school because we pick up her six-year-old
brother, Matt, at 2:50 p.m. Sarah gets out at 1:30 p.m. Today, the issue
was what others think of her.
when playmates hurt Sarah's feelings
"But, G-Ma, then the playground girls are right. I don't look as pretty in
pants. I want to look pretty all the time. I need to wear a dress
every day to be like them. Then they'll play with me every day. Then
Cynthia and Amanda and others won't say I'm not as pretty as they are."
welled in her German chocolate eyes. She hugged me tightly.
"Who is my
special-est gal in the whole wide world? Who is the loveliest butterfly
in New York City? Who is my most precious person ever-ever?" I scooped
her up and held her like she was my favorite stuffed doll, the very
special one that made the world stop spinning, whose warmth made all the
doubts and fears of life and bad memories fade into the bright light of
fun and joy. It was time for such a diversion.
ME.....G-Ma..... UGGGHHH ….your sweater tickles my nose." Sarah giggled,
momentarily forgetting her apparently disastrous day of feeling she was
less than her friends unless she dressed to meet their standards.
We sat on one of
the worn benches that march through Union Square. She scooted off my knee
and plopped beside me. We shared a moment of quiet, a pleasant space in
time in which we became one in the absence of words.
squirrel watched. We commented on the various colors, shades and hues of
the squirrels that ranged from shiny rust red to coal gleaming black, and
all variations between. Their colors were as varied as the autumn
leaves. Before coming to live in New York, I thought all squirrels were
the same dusty brown. Like humanity, squirrels were fully integrated.
G-Ma and Sarah
have fun feeding squirrels and chatting
Neither of us spoke.
I collected my thoughts, sifting through what to say to her about the pain
of being 'left out' at school, of feeling as though you had a thousand
warts on your face and no one wanted to be like you, near you. I recalled
my own childhood pain at being not chosen on this or that team, or
dismissed by a group because of an inane group-imposed rule designed to
ostracize, to exclude, to humiliate.
"Children can be so mean,” I
thought. I didn't want my Sarah to feel 'less than' or feel she
wasn't “in” because she was wearing a skirt or dress. I opened my
mouth and words toppled out.
"Once when I was
a little older than you pretty butterfly (I didn't remember that much of
any part of my young life), I didn't get picked to be a princess in the
Kingdom game at 'yard time' (the old recess). I was left on the sidelines
while the other girls whirled and twirled around the playground. In their
singsong Voices they made fun of my coat that was a hand-me-down from my
brother. They said I looked like a boy and couldn't be a princess and
play with them."
"Were you so
very sad, G-Ma?" Sarah stood up on the park bench and pressed my face
between her small but firm palms, staring deep into my eyes as I earlier
had into hers. I knew it was her way of demanding the truth out of me,
as though she had X-Ray vision and could see inside my heart and soul,
reminding me that trust between two close friends was the key to eternal
"Oh, yes. I was
so, so sad. I was lonely. I felt terrible. But, then from across the
playground, I saw my brother who went to the same school. He was two
years older but in a different class. He held something in his hands and
ran toward me.
"What was it
G-Ma? What was it?" Sarah relaxed her grip on my cheeks and plunked her
thirty-eight and a-half pounds onto my lap. The power of the story had
just trumped the importance of the truth.
When G-Ma was
Sarah's age, she was given a magic horse to carry her above sadness and exclusion
was.... a baseball bat! He said it was not just an old baseball bat. It
was a magic bat. He told me to get astride it and it would turn into my
magic horse. He said the magic horse would carry me up, up, to the sky,
way above all the silly girls below. He said all the girls wanted a magic
horse, but I was the ‘special princess’ who had been chosen to ride the
magic bat. I was so happy I forgot about not being picked."
I didn’t pause for Sarah to ask even one question. She is so
quick she can swerve a story in a thousand directions with questions. I
spoke quickly but clearly so my point wouldn’t be lost.
“When I told my mother, GaGa--your great grandmother--about
what happened, she also told me it was my inside that was important, not
what I wore. It’s important that you know, sweet Sarah, it's not what you
wear or look like on the outside that is important. It's how you dress
inside, in your thoughts. Inside you are the most beautiful of all girls,
my sweet one. Yes, you look so very, very pretty in your dresses,
especially your play princess ones, but you are truly beautiful inside
even if you have old, torn, dirty clothes on. Also, it’s what you
think of you, not what others think of you that counts, little one."
excitedly. "Wow, G-Ma, my mommy says that, too. Pretty inside is 'portant,
not what I wear. It must be true since you told me that too, and GaGa
told you when you were a little girl."
Sarah’s face twitched, the muscles turning her sour down-turned
lips slowly into a warm smile. Soon she was giving me her special apple
grin and an oh-so-special-Sarah-squeezie hug.
We giggled. I gave
her some peanuts to feed the squirrels out of my special 'G-Ma purse.’ My
purse offers many treasures for grandchildren besides peanuts: popsicle
sticks to be used for making letters, magnet Scottie dogs, band aids,
boxes of apple juice, tablets and crayons for drawing, etc. and, oh, yes,
chocolate Balance bars for Sarah - her favorite after-school snack.
places band-aids of love on Sarah's hurts
And then there
were the emotional Band-Aids I carried with me. They were like her
Barbie Band-Aids, but instead of having Barbie on them, they were covered
with hearts—full rich hearts unbroken by the Beast of Terror who stalks
little children and tries to hurt their feelings and make them feel Fear,
Intimidation and Complacency. Invisible to the common eye, any Parent of
Vigilance knows about Emotional Band-Aids. We carry them for moments
like this, when our children’s or grandchildren’s self-worth is wounded.
We want to repair it fast, before it grows into a great crack that
threatens to ruin the child’s evaluation of himself or herself.
Sarah's mom had mentioned to me a similar conversation she
had with Sarah on the very same issue. It came up while helping to dress
Sarah for school. She was not happy about the little clique at school. I
didn't know how deep the wounds were until this very moment.
But I did
understand the Fear Sarah had. I had the same Fear—the Fear of Rejection,
the Fear of being alienated.
Such Fear made me shy from friendships. It turned me into a
recluse of sorts. I didn’t want to mingle with other girls because I
didn’t want to take the risk of being ostracized. So I read fairy tales
and books and imagined a world I created that was safe and secure for me.
I knew that wasn’t healthy. I knew great friendships were
vital to a well-rounded personality. I had helped insure my daughters had
many “real friends,” and was proud of them all. I wanted the same for
little girl, G-Ma created a magical world in which to hide her
Friendships are formed early in life. They start on the
playground - and, in Sarah's case, on the playground at school. The
failure to make and sustain friendships is associated with social
difficulties in later life. I suffered that ailment. I had such a hard
time in any social environment because I was always waiting for someone to
criticize me, to drive me away from the circle where friends gather. I
learned early to retreat, to hide in books, to be “too busy” to play, and
all the time wanting so much to have friends, to have fun, to share the
joys of growing up with others.
others requires negotiation and experience
I knew from the school of hard knocks that peer interaction
involves many skills that take time and practice to learn and experience
to polish. Playing with others requires negotiation. Peer play oftentimes
calls upon the need to be assertive about one's rights and possessions,
the need to back down in a tiff, the capacity to handle being rebuffed and
the most important—to pick yourself up when you are knocked down
emotionally, and stand up for yourself.
I knew to help Sarah I needed to be a Sentinel of Emotional
Vigilance as well as a physical one. I needed to help coach her so she
could withstand the emotional blows all young children suffer as social
circles are formed, and the strong try to dominate the weak—often to the
point of bullying them. Sometimes adult supervision is necessary. I hoped
it wouldn't be in Sarah's case.
I fell back to my
own experience on the playground with my two daughters. I tried to not
interfere in the playground activities except when I considered them in
either emotional or physical jeopardy.
Teaching a child to fight back against Emotional Terrorism is
a delicate task. It requires one to expose her own Fears, Intimidations
and Complacencies so the child can empathize with you, and grow to trust
that you are speaking from the heart. When a child realizes your
vulnerability, she or he is open to the solutions. You build credibility
with the child by sharing your own dilemmas, and how you overcame them.
children and adults
Then, you work on the Principles of Vigilance, teaching the
child how to turn Fear into Courage, Intimidation into Conviction and
Complacency into Right Action. Even though it took me nearly half a
century to achieve this understanding, I knew it wasn’t too late to pass
it on. Now was the time. Sarah was standing at the crossroads of
Emotional Self Worth. She could take one road that meant her self-image
would depend on what others thought of her, or the other, that was much
harder and less traveled, the one where she was in charge of what she
thought of herself. I knew she would need help on the road less
traveled, I knew that because we all need help reminding ourselves that we
define who we are, not the world.
make big and little girls feel special
said, “dresses do make us girls look pretty. They are fun to wear. Many
times we feel extra special when we are dressed up. When you play
princess, don't you feel so pretty?" My intent was to offer Sarah a
different way of looking at playground play. I wanted her to know one
could dress for the situation, and that beauty was about feeling beautiful
whether in pants or a dress. I also wanted her to know that some people
are rigid, and see things only one way. But, if she wanted to have more
fun than anyone, she needed to see things many different ways. My daughter
said that Cynthia's mother is in fashion design. That meant to me Cynthia
was being bombarded all the time with fashion emphasis, either directly or
indirectly. Children are clay. They take the shape of their environment.
Fashion is not an important subject for discussion in Sarah's home, so I
knew Sarah was vulnerable to what she heard at school. I decided to put
the dilemma in perspective.
"Sweet one, did
you know Cynthia's mom designs dresses? Did you know dresses are so
important in their family that’s maybe the number one thing Cynthia’s mom
talks to her about? Think about it. Cynthia’s mommy draws them. She
makes patterns for them. She makes sure they’re cut and sewed right.
Then she sells them to stores to sell to women and girls. I'm sure that's
why Cynthia only wears dresses and considers them the only kind of clothes
girls should wear. And, if Cynthia’s mom made only pants, maybe Cynthia
would only wear pants to school and tell you that dresses weren’t so
pretty, and pants were better."
learn how to play together all over the world
"G-Ma, I didn't
know all that. But, she still shouldn't be mean to me and tell me
I can't play with her. Mommy says that I can't talk like that to anyone.
But she does - to me. She makes me feel sad. And then the other girls,
Amanda, and even Serena won't let me play with them either. Maybe their
mommies don't tell them not to be mean."
beautiful-inside-girl, it could be Cynthia's mommy doesn't tell her it is
not a dress that makes someone beautiful. It’s what is inside a person
that really counts. Cynthia might be looking only at your outsides and not
the real you—the one inside here." I tapped Sarah’s chest with the tip of
my finger and made her giggle. I liked to shift from heavy to light. I
wanted Sarah to assimilate what I was saying. I gently helped her off
the bench and we headed off to pick up brother Matt.
"I get it, G-Ma,
she isn't looking at ME, the real ME. She just sees my pants and shirt.
I get it. But, I still don't get to play with them - unless I wear a
dress." Sarah stopped walking and hung her head. For a minute I thought
my Emotional Band Aid had patched her wound. But then, I reached into my
mental First Aid Kit to a couple more. The wound was deep, a rip in a
little girl’s soul.
G-Ma stresses the
importance of inside beauty
" I'll bet if you
told Cynthia about how important it is to look at the inside of a person -
that is, who you really are, all the good about you - she would let you
play. We'll ask mommy to see if you can invite her to your house to play
so she can better enjoy the real you. Then you will feel really good
because you negotiated your position - that means you explained yourself
and bargained with her."
Sarah pondered my
words. Her mother and father were both great thinkers, both great
negotiators. They worked with all kinds of people from all walks of life,
and even though they were both Phi Beta Kappa recipients, they could hold
a successful conversation with someone from the streets as well as the
President of the United States.
Sarah loves her
frau-frau princess dresses
that too. Like her brother, she was blessed with a quick mind.
On her turf, she would have power. She would have the advantage of
the home field. "That's neat, G-Ma. Cynthia can come to
my house and we can dress up in my princess dresses and she will see how
many beautiful dresses I have. She'll just love them." Sarah
beamed and skipped alongside me, scampering like the hurry-scurry
squirrels zooming hither and thither across the sidewalks. I saw her
little heart fully beating even though it was all patched with Band Aids.
I smiled. We were nearing Matt's school.
G-Ma. There he is. He's the first one out the door." Sarah bounced
toward her older brother to give him a big hug.
Matt attends a
Catholic school and had on his special smile, happy to see his sister and
happier that school was over. Many boys and girls from his class said
"goodbye" and chitchatted with him. It was always amazing to note his
popularity after school, because Matt appears to be almost a recluse, a
kind of emotional hermit while Sarah is ebullient, effervescent.. My
husband and I have never seen Matt initiate a conversation with his
schoolmates after school. They approach him. He is very self-assured in
his relationships with his classmates in direct contrast with, Sarah.
Matt, we think,
wins friends and influences people by not trying to. It’s kind of an
oxymoron—win friends by not trying to win them. Matt is a thinker. He
has a sharp mind that gets the idea at the first try. And, he doesn’t
lord his knowledge. Like his mother and father, he is eager to help
others but not to win their affection. My husband and I think he likes
showing off his knowledge. He’s forever saying, “I know everything,” and,
in his own way, he does. We hardly ever correct him for fear we might
impair his self- confidence and self assuredness. Also, he is usually
right and is not egotistical in his knowledge; he’s just matter-of-fact.
We think the other kids recognize Matt is smart and sincere, and that it
is his unique ability to show interest in helping others that draws them
In elementary school, children start choosing their own
friends by a variety of standards. At first they gravitate to others who
share tangible similarities, such as the same kind of backpack or, in
Sarah’s case, by what kind of clothes they wear. Matt has a dinosaur
backpack and it sports nifty zipper pockets for his spy paraphernalia:
magnifying glass, binoculars, pad of paper and pencil for any clues. Soon
youngsters pick friends who like the same things they do. Some of Matt's
friends play with Rescue Heroes. A few have phoned him at home to find
out when and what time Rescue Heroes is on TV. Another called to chat
with him about the after school chess club.
Kids also quickly
find out how they differ from their peers. In Sarah's case, dress
differences led to exclusion - and cliques. When the girls in her class
saw she was not wearing a dress, Sarah told me Cynthia said to the other
girls (in dresses) "Lets not be friends with Sarah today." Matt is
immune to the idea of needing others to play with. He is self absorbed in
his own world, and would just be happy looking at a bug through a
magnifying glass as others would wrestling with one another and boasting
about all the “stuff they have.” Matt soaks up knowledge.
I make it a
practice during my daily 'web time' to go into sites helping me to be a
better Grandmother of Vigilance. My goal is to keep a supply of
Emotional Band Aids so the Beast of Terror doesn’t get a hold on either
Sarah or Matt. Plus, I have my own experiences to guide me, and, my
common G-Ma- sense.
According to information from Sesame Street Parents
www.sesameworkshop.org "Cliques revolve around conversation - Who's
in who's out - and conversation is the essence of girls' social
interactions. Also, the constant attention paid to status is particularly
true of girls".
Therein lies part
of the difference between Matt’s social success and Sarah’s struggle to
achieve it. It shocked me that young girls at three- and four-years-of
age would use how one dresses as a bludgeon to exclude others from their
inner circle. Sarah is beautiful no matter what she wears, and I don’t
mean that just as grandmother. People stop on the street to admire her.
She has her mother’s natural beauty. It radiates from her as a gift. I
almost want to think the other girls are jealous of her natural beauty,
and use her clothing as a means to demean her, to raise themselves above
her gift of natural beauty.
True beauty is
inside a person
As a woman,
however, I know that vanity is part of womanhood. Women have
for eons primped and preened to look their best. In ancient
times, women used berries to redden their lips, and fashion has been a
forefront for women while a secondary issue for men. But to have her
teased because her feathers aren’t the right kind or not fluffy enough in
the eyes of other girls, irritated me. Matt could care less what he
wears—after all, he is a boy.
"'Bye Sean. Bye
Alex. See you guys tomorrow." Matt responded to two of his pals who
followed him out of the building.
"Hey Sarah and
G-Ma ,do you want to hear about the tidal wave, hurricane, volcano
.....AND...earthquake that the Rescue Heroes have to fight"?
Matt took off his
incredibly heavy backpack full of homework books and play paraphernalia
and casually dropped it into my arms. It really is a burden for his
scrawny shoulders to carry all fourteen blocks to his apartment after a
full day at school. I had one on each side, Matt on the left, Sarah on
the right and the dinosaur pack in the middle of my back as we headed
Cliff Hanger, Air
Cliff Hanger and Billy Blazes radioed in to Command Center they were
approaching some serious smoke and loud, VERY loud, crashing sounds.
CRASH! BANG! BOOOOM! 'Roger that, we copy'" Matt yelled out the sounds,
pretending to be both characters. Energy sparked from him as he skipped
around me, pulling on my hand and crashing pell-mell into Sarah like a
speeding racecar piloted by an erratic driver careening off the track
guards and plowing into a stack of pylons.
Blazes leads the Launch Force™ team into burning buildings and
explosive situations to rescue trapped victims and save lives.
"Ouch! Matt, you
ran into me, over me. G-Ma, make him stop, pulleeze. Matt, you quit it.
I'll run over you if you don't, Sarah bellowed. I was glad to see the
return of my bristly Amazon gal who usually doesn't take anything from
Sarah. Soon it will be time for the girl Rescue Heroes and maybe you can
tell part of the story when it's time for Wendy or Ariel to help.” Matt
patted his sister on her shoulder in his kindly big brother fashion. That
was his magic, I thought, his concern for others despite his gift of being
very very smart.
Matt is an
empathetic soul-mate for Sarah. They are very close and usually play well
together. He frequently comes 'to the rescue' of his little sister. But,
there it was again—rejection, alienation. Matt was not letting Sarah play
until he said she could. He was keeping her outside the circle. My little
Amazon bird was put off this time not because of what she wore, but her
sex. I could see her feathers drooping once again.
"Hey, Matt, how
nice of you to include Wendy and Ariel in your story." I didn't want to
make a big deal about his wording in his offer for her to play. He was
nice enough to include her after the fact, but I could see Sarah was
having a bad day and was sad again. It was time for more Emotional Band
Wilderness Pilot and Veterinarian
Matt, sharp as a
tack, took my cue. He swerved around me and took Sarah's hand in his.
"Hey, Sarah, you tell the story about how Ariel and Wendy saved the rest
of the Rescue Heroes. Please."
Wendy Waters and
Smokey, the firedog
Ariel flew together to Command Center and........." Sarah's Voice was
quaky and unsure in the first part of her tale. It grew strong as she
neared a crescendo several minutes later....."and the girls saved the
whole 'ntire team of Rescue Heroes....and everyone lived happily ever
after. How's that, Matt?"
isn't a princess story. Don't end it 'happily ever after.'
Maybe the girls got an award or medal from the rest of the Team for doing
such a good job or something like that." Matt glanced up at me.
I had "Band-Aids" in my eyes. He caught the point. "Awe, you
told a GREAT story, 'Sar'." Matt threw a smile my way. His
blue-green eyes gleamed. After all he taught Sarah all about Thomas
Train toys and now she was almost an expert on the Rescue Heroes.
I force myself to
remember that Sarah is younger and has less sophisticated social skills
than Matt. Today, Matt was being a Vigilant brother. He was boosting
Sarah’s verbal and creative strength, and expanding her confidence at
imaginative play and storytelling. Matt is a master at storytelling for
his age. At first he wouldn’t let Sarah “into the stories.” He hogged
them. But slowly, he has allowed her to participate as she has grown
older and more capable of expressing herself. He was like my older
brother who brought me the magic bat. He was being a Brother of
Vigilance, helping Sarah overcome her Fears, Intimidations and
Most of the
children Matt and Sarah know are boys. Sarah has benefited from a few girl
friends but far fewer than Matt. Sarah’s mother is aware of the need for
Sarah to have more girlfriends, and is working on helping her develop them
so her self worth isn’t hinged on what Cynthia says at school, or whether
she wears a dress or not.
Self worth is the
genuine band-aid for the soul
Vigilance want their children and grandchildren to be socially competent
and to be able to mesh their behavior with that of their playmates. The
capacity to interact while playing means that the child will have an
easier time adjusting to society as he or she grows older. But the Beast
of Terror preys on the innocent and vulnerable. It would like to stunt a
child’s emotional growth, turn him or her into a doormat so that his or
her Fears, Intimidations and Complacencies make the child ripe for its
attacks. I see the Beast of Terror working on Sarah in insidious ways.
He shows his fangs in cutting comments made by schoolmates who unknowingly
play into its claws. Sarah, like so many children, can only be protected
from the Beast by Vigilance. As a Grandparent of Vigilance, I see the
bruises on her soul, that sense of “not belonging” that could, if left
unattended, lead her into feeling she wasn’t “good enough,” “pretty
enough,” “liked enough.” Her mother and father are Parents of Vigilance.
They know the constitution of a person is built from the inside out, not
the outside in. Matt has a good handle on that part of his maturity, and
he’s a Brother of Vigilance, passing it down to his sister. I pray the
Sentinels of Vigilance are keeping an eye on Sarah’s heart when I or her
parents aren’t around. I only wanted her to know she could fight the
Beast of Terror with thoughts and not let it wound her without a battle.
The Sentinels of Vigilance were my Rescue Heroes for Sarah.
Hal E. Copter,
"Hal E. Copter,
come NOW, my helper shark Mako and I need you to help the ‘peoples’ who
fell off their ship. Do you copy, Hal E. Copter?" Sarah crashed into her
apartment startling her seven-month-old brother Angus as well as her mom.
and Mako, the Rescue Shark
Matt picked up the
conversation. "Maureen, I copy. We need Cliff Hanger too. I'm still at
Command Center and will radio him." Matt was right on the heels of his
now spunky sister who yelled out "Roger that."
My older daughter
just laughed at her two Rescue Heroes aficionados. She opened her arms
for their rambunctious hugs. Angus, newly crawling, lumbered toward them
on all fours, squealing all the way.
"So, my little
Rescue Heroes, you seem to be having a great time with G-Ma, telling
exciting stories all the way home. How was school today, loves." She
moved toward the refrigerator to extract the apple juice they drank upon
"Mommy, I let Annabelle play with me when the other girls
said she couldn't play with us.”
I perked up.
Sarah had neglected to tell me she was a Rescue Hero at school. She had
broken the circle she so eagerly wanted to be part of—the
“I’m-beautiful-because-I’m-wearing-a-dress” circle. Like her brother,
she had gone to the aid of the underdog. She had given up the glimmer of
the floodlights to befriend another “ugly duckling” the flock had cast
Guess I really don't have to worry all that much about my
little hero, Sarah.
I watched the kids play with their brother, eager to walk and
to be a viable part of their playgroup.
I thought of Annabelle—sad and lonely because the “pretty
people” had turned their backs on her. I realized that when Sarah
announced she had “let Annabelle play with me,” she had healed a scar.
She had learned the most fundamental lesson of self worth, that giving is
more important than taking, that sharing is more important than excluding
others, that selflessness rose above selfishness.
I looked at little Angus, almost coming into his eighth
month. He was going to be a lucky kid, because he had a Brother and
Sister of Vigilance. He had two Rescue Heroes looking out for his
Emotional and Physical welfare.
And Sarah? Yes, I thought, she’s going to be fine. She
took her Pledge of Vigilance with Annabelle, but she added something to it
that came from the Rescue Heroes.
Vigilance is the
best cure for the Beast of Terror
“Leave no one
behind,” is the creed of the Rescue Heroes. No. She had decided to take
Annabelle out of the arms of the Beast of Terror. She snatched her right
out of the Beast’s Fear, Intimidation and Complacency. Sarah, I thought,
should carry the Emotional Band Aids. She has a lot of friends she could
put them on, and they would gladly want them whether Sarah wore a dress or
pants—it just wouldn’t matter.
The Vigilant Reminder of the Day—it’s straight from the Rescue Heroes--
“Don’t leave anyone behind!” “Be safe out there!” And, I’ll
add, “Be Vigilant!” “Don’t leave anyone stranded in the arms of the
Beast of Terror! Become a Parent, Grandparent, Brother, Sister,
Cousin, Uncle, Aunt or simply Loved One of Vigilance today.”
Sophia Wisdom 23 "Toys of Vigilance"