Running Away

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The 4 year old little red-headed girl was upset – as most red-heads get at some time or another! She crossed her chubby little arms, turned, stomped her small feet as best she could, pouting as she scooted away from her adversary. She was determined to do whatever it was that she needed to do all by herself. She was four years old, wasn’t she – practically all grown up!

So, off she went – out the front door, down the sidewalk, into the back yard. She found her little red wagon, picked up the handle and pulled it to the front of the house. There she found her treasure ( a momma cat and her four kittens ) and she loaded them into the wagon. With her head held high and the sun glistening off of her curls, she boldly trotted down the sidewalk, ready to show the world what she could do on her own.

She walked and walked for what seemed like a country mile, and as she reached the corner, she had to stop and take a breath. This was a lot of work for a four year old, pulling a wagon full of kitty cats and being all huffy besides! She looked both ways and then looked ahead – the road seemed awful wide now that she was there by herself. She put her little face down then looked up again, shielding her face with her chubby hand, looking again across the street, trying to decide what she was to do. She turned back to check on her kitties and then hesitated as she put one foot forward to step off of the curb. She pulled her foot back and stood there for a bit. Soon, she got tired so she just plopped down on the sidewalk and stared at the asphalt.

A gentle touch on her shoulder startled her. “What are you doing?”

“I’m running away.”

“Oh. I see.”

The little stubborn red-head looked once more at the other side of the street – way across the two lanes of asphalt.

“Why are you running away?”

Silence. For a few moments, they stood there, the little red-headed rebel with her wagon full of kitties and the mommy who had quietly followed her down the street.

Still no answer.

“Where are you going?”

No answer.

“Hmmm. Why did you stop?”

Big sigh . . . “’Cause I’m not allowed to cross the street by myself.”

“Oh. I see. So, what are you going to do now?”

The little girl thought for a moment, looked up at her mommy, took the handle of her little red wagon, turned around and marched home. Mommy followed her silently, smiled her gentle smile and watched the defiant young girl unload her wagon of purring treasures, then followed her inside the house. Mommy sat down on the sofa and the red-headed child curled up in her lap. “I like being home, mommy.”

“And I like it when you’re here.”

 

– Miss Judy