The Devil That You Know

As the old saying goes "better the devil that you know, then the angel that you don't know."   I had to take Jubilee to school a little bit early today.  She had to have lunch with her class before she started school.  When she got home she told me that she was scared at lunch.  I asked her why and she said that all of the white people are scary.  I said really?  Did anyone hit you?  No.  Did anyone call you stupid?  No.  Did that ever happen at your old school?  Yes.  So why is this school scary?  Because she doesn't know the lay of the land.

I had talked to her earlier in the day about things that made her feel small.  It started when we were talking about a friend that had said something unkind about her sister.  I told Jubilee that what she said made her sister feel small, but made her feel big.  She understood.  I asked her if she felt small at school.  She said she did.  She doesn't feel comfortable there.  She is still trying to understand the language, especially the nuances of jokes.  She doesn't know if people are laughing at her or with her.  She wants to please her teachers but she isn't sure how when learning is such a struggle.  She is still making friends, which is especially challenging when you are just plain different from everyone in every possible way.  It is obviously uncomfortable and makes her very sad.

She told me today that she didn't sit on her bed and cry in Ethiopia.  She had friends and they would talk and play.  I know it is true, but it is also true that some of the things they talked about were their preferred method of ending their lives.  My heart breaks when I think of all that this little girl has suffered in her short life.  It is all such a jumble of emotions.  Her life in Ethiopia was so terrible, but so comfortable.  It is hard for me to imagine how a child can live with such contradictory emotions.  I know that children live with it all of the time.  I am realizing how much she needs counseling.  There is only so much that I can explain and help her work through.  Her wounds are big, and I need someone to help us sort it all out.

I think it is also hard for her sisters.  It is a bummer to have a sister with a sign on her bed that reads "Please don't tell me you love me."  The pile of kleenex on the floor by her bed is a constant reminder of the tears she sheds because this is not her "home."  It is hard to make friends with someone that won't look at you and won't talk to you, and then accuses you of not liking her.  They do like her, but her depression is hard on them.  Some tend towards depression themselves.  Maybe we can get a group rate for counseling.  Life isn't easy, but as I reminded one daughter tonight, the rewards are incredible.  I have faith that one day Jubilee's smile will be far more genuine and frequent.  Someday we will be comfortable for her, maybe not someday soon, but someday.