Heartbreak

I don't imagine there are many Australian mothers going to bed tonight that have not today been forced to imagine life's most unimaginable horror - the loss of your child, at the hand of someone they loved.

Today, we held our collective breath as we watched paramedics work tirelessly to revive a 4 year old girl fished out of Melbourne's Yarra. A little princess, tossed, like a Raggety Ann Doll off the West Gate Bridge. Fell 60 metres to an unforgiving body of water, her internal organs too fragile for such an assault.

We pictured our own flesh and blood, curls and dimples, chubby hands and impossibly long lashes. We could almost smell their sweetness and we closed our eyes, our minds recreating the last time we hugged them, our memories searching for the parting words this morning. "Love you Mummy". "Have a nice day". "I'll miss you". Were we rushed? Harried? Did we kiss them? Did I smile? Did we lock eyes, share a look across a bustling classroom one final time before heading home?

Our hearts raced and our stomachs churned as news reports offered conflicting stories. The child was alive, but critical. The child was dead. No. Alive. No. Just, no. There was no chance, we knew. But still. We hoped. We hoped as only a mother can, for a miracle. For the impossible. For those eyes to open and a mother's wish to come true. And guiltily, secretly, we thanked whoever it is that we thank when a tragedy befalls someone else's family. Dear Lord, not ours. Not mine. Not my beloved.

I don't know what made that man throw his daughter over that bridge. I cannot believe he was of sound mind. I do not believe (in my heart) that it was premeditated. I do feel an element of pity, of compassion for the father. But I also do not know how, as a mother, it would ever be possible to forgive. It is a crime so horrific, so shattering, it defies our more civil selves. For this was not just a crime against an innocent child. This is a crime against nature itself.

The natural instinct that says I will protect this child of my body. I will destroy any who seek to harm her. I will use my dying breath to make him happy. There is literally nothing I would not give and nothing I would not do to save him. This is my flesh, a part of my soul and you must get through me if you want to hurt her.

That perfect, primal instinct in this case failed. And tonight, a mother will not tuck her child into bed. They will not speak in low tones of fairies and princesses and stinky boys. There will be no butterfly kisses and no tiny hands clasped around her neck, taking every moment of goodnight cuddles. There will be just sorrow, gut wrenching sorrow, confusion, shock. And a gaping wound.

There is not (or should not) be a mother in this country who did not take extra moments tonight with her children. Relishing those bedtime stories. Aquiesing to a cheeky request for one more. For we owe that to mothers who miss their children. We owe it to them to at least see what we are blessed with, and appreciate it for what it is. A gift.


I"m so glad I did tonight. I'm so grateful it was my turn for the bedtime routine. I was given a gift, a conversation with Alexander I will never forget.

"I love our cuddles Mummy. We love to snuggle. We love each other".
"We do. Do you know how much I love you, my sweet Alexander?"
"I love you, Mummy. I love you more than cappuccinos. And more than my computer and ALL of the games on it!"
"Wow. That is a lot. What a lucky Mummy I am!"
"Yes. And you love me more than coffee?" a dimple belies the tentative tone, he knows.
"More than ALL the coffee in the world"
Loud sigh from my little man. "You're so beautiful Mummy. You have a beautiful smile. And body (had to laugh at that one!). You're just a beautiful, beautiful Mummy'.
"What a lovely thing to say Alexander. Thank You. And you're my beautiful boy. I'm so lucky to have a boy like you, I love to be your Mummy".
"You know what you are? Perfect. You are a perfect Mummy for me. Just right. Just perfect". His arms so tight around my neck, his nose touching mine, in his favoured eskimo kisses. A smile on his face. Light in his eyes.

Tears in mine.


I swear, almost word for word, that was our converstation. I don't care how sore I was tonight, that 2 minutes will be forever imprinted on my heart. May there be hundreds, hundreds more of them. For all of us.

Fleeting

11 Years now. I don't know what I feel. It's a dull ache, I guess.

I still miss you. I still think of you. I wonder what you'd have been like. Would you have had curly hair, like your brothers did as babies? Would you have had Alexander's big brown eyes, or the vivid blue of Sam's? Would you have been gentle, like Alexander, or fiesty, like Sam? Would you have been the balance between them?

I'm sorry, little one. Mama will always love you, always wish we'd had more time together. I promise you, Daddy and I will never, ever forget you. You were our first.

I am

Pretty women wonder where my secret lies.
I'm not cute or built to suit a fashion model's size
But when I start to tell them,
They think I'm telling lies.
I say,
It's in the reach of my arms
The span of my hips,
The stride of my step,
The curl of my lips.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.

I walk into a room
Just as cool as you please,
And to a man,
The fellows stand or
Fall down on their knees.
Then they swarm around me,
A hive of honey bees.
I say,
It's the fire in my eyes,
And the flash of my teeth,
The swing in my waist,
And the joy in my feet.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.

Men themselves have wondered
What they see in me.
They try so much
But they can't touch
My inner mystery.
When I try to show them
They say they still can't see.
I say,
It's in the arch of my back,
The sun of my smile,
The ride of my breasts,
The grace of my style.
I'm a woman

Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.

Now you understand
Just why my head's not bowed.
I don't shout or jump about
Or have to talk real loud.
When you see me passing
It ought to make you proud.
I say,
It's in the click of my heels,
The bend of my hair,
the palm of my hand,
The need of my care,
'Cause I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.


Maya Angelou

I am Woman. Phenomenal Woman. Strong, mysterious, nurturing, fragile, loving woman.



I am a 5 year old girl, golden curls cascading down my back, no father to teach her, but a mother, a mother who will teach her to be strong, but soft, bold but kind. An emerging sense of her intelligence, a lust for books, for knowledge, to make her Mama proud.








I am a 10 year old girl, delighted in her new father, watching, learning what it is to be a Daddy's girl. Learning how this nuclear family works, how a Father treats his children, with love and compassion. I'm learning about loyalty and honour, tenderness and compromise.


I am a teenage girl now, still discovering who I am, who I may be. No longer simply a girl, but not quite a woman*. Full of angst and heartache, hiding a deep, dark secret, wanting noone to know of the man who hurt her, who brazenly took her innocence and her trust, and dismissed it, as though it were nothing. It wasn't nothing. It isn't nothing. I've almost lost my mother, held her hand and watched her life drain out of her, the deep red blood dripped to the floor, each gush closer to taking her with it. I'm learning about strength and courage, about determination and about fear. Real fear. Fear that still leaves me cold, as I discovered some of that strength in myself, suddenly faced with the prospect, at the tender age of 14 of helping raise my brothers and sisters.





I am a 21 year old woman, opening her heart to her first real love. Embracing sensuality and passion, surrendering herself to love someone with every ounce of her being. Learning how to be a modern woman - wife, a daughter, a friend, employee, sister. Old relationships reforming, taking on nuances noone's quite sure what to do with. Suffering my first great loss, a moment that forever changes the woman I am. Changes the woman I will be. Slamming shut the door to life's last shred of innocence.




I'm a 27 year old woman. A mother. Discovering how her heart can double in a moment, and let another being take possession. How two tiny hands can touch her face and her heart at the same time, and wanting to place the world at those two beautiful feet. Terrified by the intensity of this new love, afraid it will simply break her if anyone takes it away.





Wretched, anguished sobs from the deepest part of her soul - she watches the most important woman in her life taken away. Becoming a mother. Losing a mother. She changes again, she'll never be the same again. She wonders if she'll ever be whole again. If she'll ever heal from this blow.




I am a 33 year old woman. Living in a house of blue. Surrounded by men, or boys who will be men. Watching their father teach them how to be a men. How to be a good men. Thankful, so incredibly thankful that they have him, that with his guidance, and hers, they can grow up to be wonderful, loving, smart, funny men. Already achingly proud of them. Proud of this family. Sometimes she feels like this family she's nurtured is the most perfect thing she's ever done.



I am woman. Wonderful, intelligent, complex, compassionate woman. I am every woman.









I am outraged. I am disgusted. I am terrified that there are people who think we shouldn't respond to this. That they think that 'ignoring' his rantings are a better policy. That our sons and fathers and brothers and husbands shouldn't see our outrage, our hurt, our disgust.

But I will not have my nephews hear those words of hate, and leave them unanswered. I will not have my sons' tender hearts blackened by this filth, and not replace it with words of love, of respect, of beauty. I will not let my nieces believe with any part of their souls that they are deserving of anything but to be cherished. I will not meekly bow my head and accept that it was 'taken out of context'. There is no context that makes this less despicable. There is no context that makes it ok to treat a woman as an object, a posession that must be controlled, moulded, whipped into shape.

We are phenomenal, we woman. Do you not see what we are capable of? Our bodies, from the moment you were conceived struggled to keep you alive. Our hearts beat faster, our immune systems embraced you and protected you, We breathed for you, fed you, nourished you. Our bodies ached as we carried you, kept you safe until you were ready to be born. We dreamed about you, fell in love with you while you nestled safely within the sacred confines of our womb.





We laboured to bring you safely into the world, endured pain and fear, felt true ecstasy when you were placed on us. You cannot begin to imagine the courage we drew upon to do this, the pain, the exhileration. The empowerment. From the moment you entered the world, your body sought nourishment, comfort, pleasure from the swell of our breasts. The curves of our bodies provide resting places for your head and our hands gently wipe away tears of frustration, of pain, of hurt.



We helped you navigate your way through school and friends, first love, first heartache. We taught you how to learn, how to be loved, how to love others. You learned at our knee how to read, we took your hand in ours and showed you how to write. Our gentle utterances show you how to speak.

We teach you how to make your way in the world, how to follow your dreams, find love, be parents to your own beloved children. We step back and love you when it's time for you to control your own destiny, build your own families. We do this, needing to fight our instinct to protect you, that primal urge that took up residence in our souls at your conception.

We are mothers, grandmothers, daughters. We are doctors and nurses and teachers. We are politicians and businesswomen. We are capable of such brilliance.



Such courage.


Wisdom.



Such compassion and service.



Such passion and boldness.


Leadership and inspiration.









I am woman. I am defiant.

How dare you look down upon us? How dare you teach that we are anything but the amazing people we can be? How dare you not see our worth, and teach our value?

You might convince some people. You might influence like minded boys or men that we are objects to be controlled. That we are to be tolerated and scorned, beaten and raped.

You might convince someone's son.

But you don't get mine, you jerk. You don't get mine.

Affirmation - Kenneth Carroll

Before the sun splashed orange
against an obsidian sky creating purple,
Before the moon and stars were placed
upon the night to give it beauty
You loved me.

The oceans had not yet begun their watery chorus
The earth was barren and without purpose
when you first cared for me.

Before god was born
Before he sent his people northward
to build great pyramids and temples,
You were my god and my temple.

You were my savior before horus or jesus,
Before moses led his people to the promised land,
You were the land that gave to me the promise of life.

Before men made flags and assembled armies to defend their empires,
my empire was you, my anthem was:
my mother's womb, i am of thee
sweet place of security, of thee i sing.

Before words like life, beauty, and love had meaning,
you gave them to me, like gifts from a queen.
Before i knew what love was, i gave it to you in return.

Before time carved mountains out of the pit of the earth and turned glaciers
into seas and seas into deserts, You shared with me a timeless, infinite love.

Long after the sun is a burnt out symbol of a past life and the oceans are a
sip of water in the universe, i will still love you.

Warm yourself my mother, with these thoughts
when it gets too cold outside.

*Am I the only person horrified by the Britney Spears song suddenly making it's way around my brain. Make it stop!!

Alexander likes to talk about you now. He knows about you. He knows your picture. He knows you are my mother, and that you're his nanna.

He's connecting with you. It's the little things. He looks like you, of course. Everyone sees it. But he seems to have some of your tastes and preferences too.



He loves pink milk. If he can have a choice of Flavoured milk, he'll choose Pink. And then he'll tell everyone "Like my nanna's favourite and mine as well".
I hate pink milk. Have done since I was 5. So how did that happen?

He loves honey sandwhiches. His favourite treat at the moment is honey. When I told him yesterday that that was your favourite, his eyes lit up and he said "Yes, just like me. We have the same favourite".

We were at a jewellry store the other day. I've always been a sapphire and diamond kind of girl, it's all I've worn since I was 10. But lately, I've been leaning towards the softer pink sapphires and topaz. I showed him those, and we talked about how Aunty Tam loves amethysts. How Aunty Gem loves Rubies.

No. He said, looking at them all thoughfully. I love this. I love the green ones. Emeralds. Your favourite too. I have never liked Emeralds. The only piece of emerald jewellry I own is the Ring you left me, your favourite. He's never seen it. But there we are, sitting in a jewellry store, while he declares that emeralds are his favourite.




They're just little things, Mum. Tiny. But I think you'd have loved to know them.




I miss you. I could really use one of your hugs right now. Kettle's on. What I wouldn't do to have you stop in for a cup of tea and a chat again.

One of those "Where were you moments"

Will you be watching? Are you interested? Excited?

Via 'Watch Inauguration Library'

(Stolen from Kirrily)

Via the Inauguration Guide

More on this later. Of course. Because how often am I really able to shut my mouth about these kinds of things. ;)


Which brings me to a question. Being ASW, but I'd love it if you were honest.

Do you get sick of me rabbiting on about World Events, getting on my soapbox about things like Gaza, Darfur,the treatment of women, the US Election etc? Should I shut up? Should I talk more? What do you want to hear when you come here. What are you hoping to read?

Mothers don't get sickdays.

This might be TMI. Doesn't happen often around here, but if you don't want to hear about my bits, press the little "x" up the top.

I'll just wait, k? Here's something cute to occupy everyone else while the squeamish toddle off.


Look at the cute kitty..



Ok. I have a UTI. UTIs with me tend to get out of hand very, very quickly. I went to bed last night fine. No signs of a problem. I woke up at 3.30, needed to pee. Got up, it hurt. QUite a lot. Looked down, thought I must have gotten my period early, there was so much blood. Urethra started spasming. Blood clots. Lots of fun. Fever, shakes, sweats.

When I do get UTIs (thankfully not all that often), this is how they happen. THe last one put me in hospital. They take less than 3 hours to go from nothing to blood, though never this much blood.

But I'm apparently not sick enough for JOel to stay home. It seems he can't 'drop everything just because you're sick". Has to work. Never mind I'm in the middle of packing our house. Alexander is on holidays and I have a teething toddler who is literally crying every moment he's not either a) asleep or b) in my arms.

Whatever. Am pissed. But what can you do?

How sick do you have to be before your other half would stay home from work to let you go to bed?


DISCLAIMER: Yes, I'm incredibly upset with Joel at the moment. But. I never bitch about him. I could count on one hand the number of times. He's generally pretty fabulous, so please, just a minimum of Joel-bashing in this. (I didn't say none. You do have to be on my side. ;) )

Who the hell unwired her jaw????

And do you think they could put it back?

The one where I need you to peel me off the ceiling and stop me freaking the hell out.

So. Here's the thing. I think I have just been given my first writing gig. It's business work, copyright, marketing, I guess you'd say. We're not talking Pulitzer stuff here, folks, but it's still writing.

Joel met a woman who does writing for businesses (some of them large, well known to most people). She does the writing for their websites, marketing etc. She has more than a dozen other writers working for her, but is snowed under. Joel piped up with "Oh, that's what my wife does. She writes. She'd be perfect".

Lo and behold, I got a phone call this afternoon, and then a prompt email with my first 3 (small) assignments.

Who knows if it will lead anywhere. I guess this is where I step up and impress the woman. Right?

Ella's Gift

Today, January 13, is the 5th birthday of a very, very special little girl. Her name is Ellanor Ruby, and her mother, Kirrily is one of the people I admire and care about most in our blogging community.

Today, my friend should be watching her firstborn daughter blow out 5 candles. She should smile as she watches her tear open her presents. Instead, she will light a candle (a rose-pink one, perhaps) and her heart will ache for what should have been.

Ella can't open any gifts today, of course. She spent but 30 days here with her family. But in that short stay, she blessed her parents, and all her came to know her with a gift so wonderful,so miraculous that I felt it once again, tonight, five years after she left.

I visited Ella's site again tonight, knowing that this anniversary was looming for Kirrily and Steve. But somehow, despite having visited the site many times, I had missed the page called "Little Ella". It is a story that was given to Kirrily and Steve on the day of her memorial service. It was written by a family member, and is reproduced here with the permission of Ella's mother, Kirrily.

Once upon a time, there was an angel called Ellanor, who was tired of wearing a long white robe and making sure she didn’t get her wings dirty. She didn’t want to practise her harp or even blow her trumpet any more. Something else was on her mind.

“I want to find out what is happening down on Planet Earth,” she announced to the biggest and oldest of the angels. “I have heard that Earth is full of beautiful people and trees and waters, birds and fishes and flowers of a great many colours, and wonderful animals of all kinds. It must be a very exciting place. I would like to go there.”

The Big Old Angel looked at Ellanor thoughtfully. “Earth may not be quite as you imagine it to be. You will find it hard to go there and even harder to stay, but it is not impossible if you find that you have something important to do there. First, however, you must see for yourself what Earth is like, and then decide if going there is what you really want to do. After that I will help you find a way to go.”

The Big Old Angel showed Ellanor how to scoop a peep-hole through the clouds so that she could see Planet Earth. At first it looked like a blue-green ball floating in an ocean of indigo space.

“Tell me what you see,” said the Big Old Angel.

As she gazed at Earth, it seemed to Ellanor that a dense, grey cloud encircled the Planet, and so it was hard to see anything clearly. She squinted up her angel-heart’s x-ray vision to help her focus, but what she saw made her heart ache sorely. She was reminded of something – perhaps it was the thing that was on her mind -- but she could not remember what it was.

“We-ell,” said Ellanor, slowly, because she was not sure if what her heart saw could really be true. “Earth is even more beautiful than I expected, but everything is so unhappy. The people there do not see Earth as beautiful and they do not see themselves or each other as beautiful. They are so frightened and unkind that they are killing each other and so they are killing the waters and soil, the trees and flowers, and the birds and fishes and animals.” Ellanor began to cry inconsolably.

“I must stop the Earth from hurting so much, but how can I do it?” she asked at last, mopping up the tears on her grubby white robe and blowing her nose on some tattered wing feathers. The Big Old Angel looked at Ellanor lovingly. He had seen angels cry these tears many times before and he knew that Earth’s gravity was already tugging hard at Ellanor’s heart.

“There’s only one thing you can do now, my girl,” said the Big Old Angel. “You must go on that long journey to Earth. It will be difficult, for the task you have chosen is not for the faint-hearted. You will have to be very brave.

“But, first things first. Right now, you must find a mother and a father on Earth who want a baby because you will have to become their human child.”

2
At last Ellanor’s angel-wings had an important job to do. She preened her feathers carefully. She scrubbed the grub-marks on her robe with a thick white cloud. She wanted to look as respectable as she could when she met her new parents-to-be.

While half the Planet was in darkness, and while those who slept were dreaming, Ellanor flew down to Earth. In and out of people’s dreams she flew. Using her heart’s x-ray vision, Ellanor saw what their hearts were thinking so that she could find the right parents for her big adventure. Always she kept out of the strong rays of the Sun, when folk would wake and forget their dreams. Always Ellanor followed the night’s darkness as it moved around the world, putting people to sleep, perhaps to dream of having a special baby.

One night it happened. Her angel-heart found two people whom Ellanor felt might be the mother and father she wanted to be born to, as a human child. Their names were Steve and Kirrily.

Steve and Kirrily loved all children. They especially loved Sam and Emily and Mia. In fact, they loved them so much that now they longed to have a little baby all their own.

Ellanor flew in and out of Kirrily’s dreams for a long time, just to make sure that these were indeed the parents who would let her make people love each other again so that the Earth would stop hurting. When she was quite sure, she ran to tell the Big Old Angel.

“What must I do now?” asked Ellanor. The Big Old Angel stopped playing the ‘cello and looked at Ellanor in silence. Although even the smallest angel is much bigger than a human being and Ellanor was an average sized angel, the Big Old Angel knew she had chosen one the hardest jobs any angel can try to do.

“Hmm,” said the Big Old Angel at last. “You will have to become very small, in fact, no bigger than a twinkle. I am afraid there’ll be no room even for your wings. You will have to pack all of yourself into your heart. Your heart will become all that you are and all that you have in the whole of the wide universe.”

Ellanor felt scared for the first time. “But if all I am is no bigger than a twinkle I might get lost and never be found again in all the wide universe!” she said.

“Never fear, my girl,” replied the Big Old Angel. I’ll make sure you are never lost. Look, I shall tie this silver cord around your heart. Then I shall tie one end of the cord around my middle and throw the other end down to the Earth Faeries to tell them you are coming to help them stop the Earth from hurting. If things get too tough for you, the Earth Faeries will tug three times on the cord and I will pull you up to safety.”

So Ellanor packed all that she was into her heart, closed her eyes tightly and shrank herself down to the size of the tiniest twinkle. The Big Old Angel tied the silver cord around her heart, and Ellanor jumped off her cloud.

Faster than ever she had flown, Ellanor felt herself falling, falling, falling through deepest indigo space. There was no going back now. Faster and faster she fell as if the Earth was pulling hard on the silver cord.

She must have lost consciousness for she suddenly felt dizzy and found she had stopped falling. It took her a little while to discover what had happened at first. Then she heard a voice she had come to know over the many months of flying in and out of Kirrily’s dreams. It was the voice of her new mother-to-be excitedly telling Steve, her new father-to-be, “We are going to have a baby at last!”

And because Ellanor had whispered in Kirrily’s ear so many times, just to make sure that she was wanted, Kirrily knew what her name was. “I’ll call you Ella, for short,” Kirrily told her privately, “because at first you will be so little.” Ella smiled to herself. She knew that Kirrily would help her remember what she had forgotten. And she knew Kirrily would let her stop the Earth from hurting.

3
The world from inside Kirrily’s body amazed Ella. At first she thought the sounds of Earth would deafen her. All the gurglings, and splashings and rumblings and grumblings that went on right next to where she found herself were very different to the harmony of harp and trumpet and sweet flute, and the Big Old Angel’s ‘cello that she had been used to. Then there were all the different tones in Kirrily’s voice, and the deep rumble of the voice of her new father-to-be as he read her bed-time stories, even though all he could see of Ella was the growing bump that was Kirrily’s belly. And, as if this was not enough to get used to, there were the sounds of dogs barking and cats meowing, noises of crowds of people and traffic, voices laughing, shouting, crying, car engines and the clatterings of knives and forks and spoons, and the jangle of radio and television, and the strange hum of the computer. Ella suspected she would just have to get used to all this if she were to become a human person who stopped the Earth from hurting.

Month by month and day by day, Ella concentrated on growing from a tiny twinkle into a bigger and then a much bigger womb-baby. To leave room for growth, she loosened the knot on the silver cord tied around her angel heart. Very soon her angel-heart had managed to grow first Ella’s human brain and spine, then two eyes, then two lovely shell-like ears and a rosebud mouth, and arms and legs and ten delicate fingers and ten long toes. But most of all the angel-heart grew Ella’s human heart at the centre of her body. All this growing took a lot of energy, so when she was tired, Ella crossed her long new legs, closed her new eyes and put her new thumb in her new mouth. Perhaps what she was trying to remember about Earth would come to her in her sleep.

There was no one else inside Kirrily’s growing belly, but Ella never felt alone or lonely. She was often visited by the Big Old Angel who very early on introduced her to the Earth Faeries. The Earth Faeries were delighted that she had come to stop the Earth from hurting. Eagerly they showed her what Earth was made of so that she should know how to live there as a human child who would never hurt the Earth herself.

The Soil Faeries led Ella inside crystal caves and to the heart of the oldest rocks on the Planet. They ran with her over hot desert sands and helped her dig holes in the dark garden soil near the birdbath. “When you grow big we will plant seeds together. We will show you the pink earthworms, and slinky lizards and bright lime beetles,” they promised Ella. “We will help you stop the Earth from hurting.”

The Water Faeries taught Ella how to ride raindrops and dive into puddles without getting muddy. They swam with her in the dark blue rivers and played with her in the white spray of the ocean. ”When you grow big, we will show you how tadpoles turn into frogs and teach you how to sing to the silvery fishes,” they promised Ella. We will help you stop the Earth from hurting.”

The Fire Faeries laughed with Ella as they raced her through the tops of the gumtrees. Behind them, the leaves exploded into flames, and Ella and the fire Faeries leapt high with the red sparks and cartwheeled through the orange smoke of the bushfire. “When you grow big, we will show you how to keep warm on cold nights, and bake bread full of the hot Sun’s goodness,” they promised Ella. “We will help you stop the Earth from hurting.”

The Air Faeries breathed into Ella’s ear. “Wake up and come dancing with us,” they whispered, and whirled her round the Earth with them. They spiralled her into hurricanes and onto gentle breezes which laid her, as light as feather-down, into the cup of a rose petal. “When you grow big, we will show you dragonfly wings. We will teach you the language of trees,” they promised Ella. “We will help you stop the Earth from hurting.”

Now Ella felt certain she knew just how beautiful Earth was, and she longed to be with the Earth Faeries. Perhaps among them she would remember what it was she had forgotten.

All Steve and Kirrily’s families and friends looked forward to Ella growing big enough to be born. All the grandmothers and grandfathers, all the uncles and aunts and cousins and brothers and sisters began to make their plans for how they would welcome Ella into their world on Earth.

“When can I see my new cousin?” asked Sam. He wanted to show Ella how clever he was with his cricket bat and how many balls he could hit with his tennis racquet.

“Cousin?” said Emily May. She wanted to show her new cousin her dollies and teach her how to be gentle with the pussycat and how not to make Cassie and Bill growl and snap.

And Mia came all the way from Japan to look in wonder at Kirrily’s very big belly. “Can my new cousin really be growing bigger and bigger in there?” she wondered.

The grandfathers talked about mortages and money for Ella’s education. The grandmothers began to knit lacy clothes for Ella. The fathers painted Ella’s nursery and worried about the car for the special trip to the hospital. The mothers discussed breast-feeding and stretch-marks.

Now Ella felt certain she was going to be loved and wanted on Earth, and she longed to be with her new big family of human people. Perhaps among them, too, she would remember what it was she had forgotten.

Ella knew that what she was trying to remember was just what she needed to stop the Earth from hurting.

4
Although Ella’s angel-heart was hard at work growing every single part of her human body, she was still an angel, and her angel-heart’s x-ray vision was still very busy looking into people’s hearts to see if it could find what Ella had forgotten. So it was that everywhere Kirrily took Ella, tucked up inside her belly, Ella’s heart could see if people were happy or sad.

Every time her angel-heart saw someone who was happy, or being kind to another person, or doing something loving towards the Earth, Ella grew bigger and stronger inside Kirrily. But every time Ella’s heart saw unhappiness or unkindness, her new little human heart hurt so badly that it began to tear in places.

One day, when Ella’s angel-heart had seen just too much unkindness and unhappiness for her human heart to bear, she suddenly remembered what it was she had forgotten. She remembered that once upon a time, she had been on Earth herself long, long ago.

She remembered a time when she had been part of such unhappiness and unkindness that the leaves had withered on the trees, the grasses had shrivelled away and died, and the flowers had faded away before their petals had even begun to open. The birds sang no more, but fell from the skies, and lifeless fish floated on the oily rivers. People’s faces turned grey and the eyes of the little children lay dark and lifeless in their sockets.

Ella remembered how people had been afraid there would not be enough of anything for them, how they had refused to share and had stolen things belonging to others. She remembered how people had taken more than they needed and always for themselves, how they had left nothing for others – no food, no homes, and no love. She remembered that, in order for people to do this to others, they had looked down on others and criticised them because they saw others as poor, ugly, dirty, stupid, different. She remembered how they made fun of others as worthless and unlovable, and then pretended they had nothing to do with hurting others and making them unhappy. Ella remembered how the more things people took, the more frightened, unhappy, angry and unkind they were to others.

Ella’s angel-heart saw that the people on Earth still did these things and that what they did to each other they also did to Earth, and to all Earth’s trees and flowers and waters, soils and rocks and fishes, and birds and animals.

Everywhere she went inside Kirrily’s belly, Ella’s heart saw people saying and thinking things which would lead to unkind actions. Both near and far, every unkind thought, word and action, tore holes in Ella’s new human heart which was trying to grow big and strong enough for her to be born.

“If I don’t get born soon my heart will be filled with holes, and then I’ll be no good to anyone and I won’t be able to stop the Earth from hurting!” exclaimed Ella to herself. She asked the Big Old Angel and the Earth Faeries if she could be born before her heart got any more holes in it.

The Earth Faeries raised their pale green eyebrows into question marks and looked at each other. The Big Old Angel stroked the length of his white beard, thoughtfully. Then they all nodded, one after the other.

“Yes,” they agreed, “But you will have to work very quickly and your job will be harder than ever.”

“I am ready,” said Ella, “But you will help me, won’t you?”

5
The Big Old Angel called on four of the most powerful angels to bring Ella strength from the four corners of Earth. The Earth Faeries began to stir Kirrily’s belly with a big flat spoon.

Kirrily called out to Steve: “Start up the car. We’ll have to go to the hospital because Ella is going to be born 10 weeks early.”

Ella turned upside down and got herself ready to be born. She could feel the clever fingers of the Earth Faeries preparing the way ahead for her. She was glad the Big Old Angel had told her to leave her wings behind. There was no room for anything extra as she pushed her way through the long dark tunnel.

For a moment she felt as if she were falling, falling, falling as she had done through the indigo ocean of space. Then Ella’s world was a sudden confusion of bright light and shiny things, voices that boomed and grated in her ear, and air that hurt her lungs and stung her eyes and dried the skin on her tiny human body. Steve and Kirrily laughed and cried with joy as they held their tiny daughter.

And so Ella was born for all the world of Earth to see. She sighed with relief and closed her eyes.

6
“Now what am I supposed to do?” Ella asked the Big Old Angel. “Everyone says I am too tiny to survive on Earth. They have put me in a see-through crib. Kirrily and Steve come to be with me and talk to me, but they aren’t allowed to touch me too much for fear I will break. How am I to stop Earth from hurting when I am too small for anyone to take me seriously?” Ella had been crying quite a bit at what her angel-heart still saw, but right now she just felt cross and frustrated.

“First things first, my girl,” said the Big Old Angel calmly. “Don’t do anything for a while yet. Let people get to know who you are first before you go among them to stop the Earth from hurting.”

So while Kirrily and Steve were visited by their families and friends, Ella lay in the nursery like a little rosebud. Cards and balloons and fluffy baby toys arrived for Ella to play with when she was a bigger human baby, but Ella lay quietly in her crib to give folk a chance to know her better.

She wanted her new parents, Steve and Kirrily, to know her especially well. Sometimes the Water Faeries helped Kirrily to bathe her which made her feel more like a real human being. And the sound she came to love best of all was Steve’s voice who had read her so many stories when all he could see of her was a bump in Kirrily’s belly. “Grow bigger and stronger,” whispered Steve and Kirrily into Ella’s ear. “We know you can do it. We will help you all we can.”

Everywhere, everyone was whispering to Ella, “Grow big and strong. We know you can do it. We will help you.”

7
But, as she lay there trying to grow big enough to stop the Earth from hurting, Ella’s angel-heart would still see many things that tore more holes in her human-baby heart. Although Ella grew humanly bigger, at the same time, she also grew humanly weaker.

“What can I do?” she asked the Big Old Angel, despairingly. “I am still too little to do anything to stop the Earth from hurting, and now I feel as if I am fading away from being a human.”

“Aha!” replied the Big Old Angel with one of his rare smiles. “Never fear, my girl. I have a plan. While everyone thinks you are lying in your crib, I want you to do something you are very good at. I want you to fly again.”

He began to unwrap the plain brown paper from a parcel he had smuggled into the hospital in the sleeve of his white robe. Ella looked in amazed delight as the Big Old Angel held out her very own wings, the ones she had left behind before coming to Earth. They had been freshly preened and polished and fluffed up.

“Put them on,” the Big Old Angel encouraged Ella. “This is what I want you to do. Every time somebody thinks of you, they leave a tiny doorway in their hearts open and, the moment they do, I want you to fly inside. You will have only a few seconds to tell them how special they are, how important it is to love and care about each other, how important it is to love and care about the Earth. But tell them that by doing this they will surely keep you alive.”

Now that she knew what to do Ella was filled with hope. For the first time, she opened her eyes properly and smiled at Kirrily and Steve. She wanted them to know her secret plan. Then she closed her eyes again, put on her wings and began to fly.

8
In and out of people’s hearts she flew, whispering to their owners during the moments they were thinking of her. Amazingly, the doctors and the nurses in the hospital became kinder to each other and to their patients. Instantly the mothers became kinder to their children. Suddenly, the fathers became kinder to the mothers. Miraculously, the grandmothers became kinder to the grandfathers. “Yes, of course,” thought the aunts and uncles and cousins who all became kinder to each other and told people in the shops about Ella. The people in the shops who thought about keeping little Ella alive became kinder to the other customers. The other customers who heard about Ella drove home with their shopping thinking about her and became kinder to the other car-drivers. When the other car drivers (who had never heard of Ella) arrived home, they were kinder to their next door neighbours (who also had never heard of Ella). The next door neighbours phoned their mothers and said “I love you Mum”. And these other mothers (who had never heard of Ella either) felt happy and wanted to help little children and injured possums, and old people who were sick, and young men in prison, and people who were suffering all over the world. And they asked the other fathers to help them.

These were only a few of the people that became kinder because of Ella’s flying visits.

Ella worked harder and harder, but the harder she worked to fly in and out of people’s hearts, the weaker her human body grew. She was far too busy to see how people were changing because of her heart-message. All she could see was that there was still so much work to be done. The last thing Ella wanted was to give up before she had stopped the Earth from hurting. As she flew, she asked her little human body to gather up as much of the Earth’s unhappiness as it could. But, with all the holes in it, her human heart was not strong enough to help her body turn this unhappiness into happiness.

One night the Big Old Angel saw how tired she was and told her that she would soon have to stop.

“Just a little longer,” pleaded Ella. “Please.”

“Just a little longer,” agreed the Big Old Angel, and he went away with the four powerful angels to visit the famous rose gardens of Faeryland.

“I may not be able to visit you much longer,” whispered Ella as she flew in and out of people’s hearts that night. “Light a rose-pink candle in your heart every time you think of me. It will remind you to be kind to others and to the Earth so it doesn’t hurt any more. I don’t want you to forget, as I once forgot long, long ago. Remembering will keep me alive, too.”

That night, if you had been awake, you would have smelt the sweet scent of roses as the Big Old Angel and the four powerful angels carried baskets of rose petals from Faeryland through the Earth, and up above the clouds to make a beautiful bed for Ella. And if you had been really wide awake, you just might have heard the rustling, murmuring, crackling, whispering sounds of the Earth Faeries as they gathered around the Earth end of Ella’s silver cord.

9
Ella was so tired after her last flight that she could not even greet Kirrily and Steve when they came to visit. As always, they seemed to know what was wrong. “If you want to go now, Little Ella, we won’t make you stay,” said Kirrily and Steve.

This was a sign to the Earth Faeries to tug three times on the silver cord. Ella felt it hold her tight as her human heart stopped beating. She felt herself being carried upward.

“Will we see you again, Little Ella?” called Steve and Kirrily.

“Oh yes,” replied Ella. “We’ve loved each other for too long to say goodbye forever.”

Up and up she went. At last she caught hold of the edge of the cloud and the Big Old Angel and the four powerful ones reached down to pull her up.

“I’m sorry. I’m afraid I failed,” said Ella sadly. “I did not know how badly the Earth was hurting until I lived down there amongst it all. I wasn’t strong enough to stop it from hurting and I gave up too soon.” First one, and then another and another, her hot angel-tears splashed down and melted a hole in the cloud at her feet.

“Come now,” said the Big Old Angel. “Just take a look down there to see what you really have done.”

With what energy she had left, Ella looked down at Earth through the hole in the cloud. Thick grey fog still blanketed the Planet, but here and there all over the Earth little patches of light had melted the fog and shone through like rosy lanterns. In some places, especially around where her Earth family lived, quite a lot of the fog had melted completely away. And, as she looked, Ella could see the patches of rosy light getting bigger and spreading.

What Ella had not realised was that people had begun to light pink candles in their hearts whenever they thought of her, or all the other angels who try to become human children. Around the rosy glow of these candles, Ella could see how pale green shoots had already begun to appear on the trees, how blue the Earth’s sky was and how fresh was the air in which the coloured birds flew and sang, how happily the silvery fish swam in the sparkling river waters, how warmly the Sun shone and how brightly the winter night’s fire burnt to keep folk warm.

“You see,” said the Big Old Angel, picking up his ‘cello to play a lullaby for Ella. “You have succeeded where many others have failed.”

But Ella didn’t hear. She was already fast asleep. The four powerful angels gently lifted her up and carried her to her new bed of rose petals.

Now you may be wondering what became of the tiny human body that Ella’s angel-heart worked so hard to grow. After Kirrily and Steve had said goodbye to Ella, the Earth Faeries took her body away with them to a place where there were tall trees above a pool of water. There, if you are very still, you may be able to see Little Ella playing with Soil Faeries in the fern-gully, and with the Water Faeries in the pool, and sometimes with the Fire Faeries if the bushland is alight; if you are very quiet, you just may hear Ella whispering with the Air Faeries as she swirls with the gusts of wind and flies with the coloured birds.

And then you will remember the story of Ellanor, the angel who became Little Ella for thirty miraculous days, and how she stopped the Earth from hurting so much. And you may wish to light a pink candle in your own heart so that the Earth can stop from hurting any more.

Isn't that beautiful? I sat and read this tonight, for the first time. And I'd been having a rough day and Alexander was, to be frank, getting on my nerves already, dragging out his bed time.

But as I read, I found myself rethinking. I went to Alexander's room, and sat with him. We snuggled together, and we talked. I told him how I felt like he has been the greatest gift I've ever been given. I told him that he fills my heart with all of the love in the world, and makes me feel happier than I ever knew I could. He told me that we were special, and that we love each other "the most in the whole wide world and the moon" (  ). I told him I missed him today, when he was away, and that tomorrow we would have a beautiful day together.

I told him that tonight I was reading about a little girl who couldn't stay with her Mummy and Daddy, because she was a 'special kind of sick' and that she died. He understood. "Like my Nanna", says he, solemnly. "But she loved me", his eyes light up, he loves adding that part. "That's right. She loved you. And tonight I feel sad, because Ella isn't here with her Mummy, and she loved her very much". "Yeah. And Ella loved her Mummy too, just like my nanna and me. She will always love her".

He's so right. That love Kirrily has for her firstborn is always so clear. So strong, so focused. It is a love to survive the ages, and I know that Kirrily will make sure that Ella is remembered and celebrated with every breath in her body.

So, today. Spare a thought for this family. For Kirrily and Steve, who waited so long for their precious child, only to have to say goodbye to her 30 days later. To little Lauryn, who never met her, but in her own way, knows all about her special big sister. Lolly, I often think that you're just the kind of little girl that Ella would have chosen for your Mummy and Daddy. Just the right kind of soul to help their hearts heal, and help them feel joy.

So, my dear readers,

Open up your hearts today, and let Ella fly in. Let her tell you how special you are, and important it is to tell your family that you love them. Hug your children, kiss them, breathe them in. Stroke their soft skin, and run your fingers through thier curls, knowing you are blessed to be able to do so.

Kiss your husband or your wife. Tell them how they take your breath away, how deeply you love them, how much you'll always need them. That you appreciate everything they do for you.

Call your Mother or your Father. Thank them for your life. For the countless things they did for you, the support they gave to you, the love they showered on you.

Call your best friend. Tell her what she means to you. Take a moment, forget how busy you are and arrange to see her, to drink coffee and laugh, and just anchor to her for a moment in her strength.

Think of a special little girl, who had such a big job to do, and whisper thanks to her for being strong enough to teach us all.

And think of her Mama and Daddy, as they hold the daughter they have, and celebrate the one who couldnt' stay. Send them your strength as they try to to smile despite their heavy hearts. Head over to Kirrily's blog, and tell them you're thinking about them. Tell them you're hearing Ella's message, and letting her remind you of what's important.

And let one special mother's love teach you all about that miracle that is Ellanor Ruby.



Ellanor Ruby
13/01/2004 - 12/02/2004

In the interests of Full Disclosure

The coffee thing.

Not so much. It wasn't working. So. I've discovered that if I make it really weak (basically half strength), I can drink it with Equal. I've gotten quite used to it.

I need the coffee. It's my only vice. I don't drink. I don't smoke. I don't do any of the fun drugs. I drink coffee.

Not every day. Just when I really need one.

That's still ok, isn't it?

Something you can do.

I don't usually do this. In fact, I may not ever do it again. I don't want to guilt people into supporting different charities or causes.

But this is something that I have talked about a number of times before. My devestation at the horrors faced by women across the globe, as they deal with atrocities not of their choosing. Specifically, I've spoken about Darfur, and the plight of the people there.

The conflict in Sudan has been going on for years now, and has resulted in the deaths of literally hundreds of thousands of innocent civilians. More than two million (don't just skim the number. Imagine it. Think about the sheer masses of humanity affected here) have been forced to flee their homes and live in camps.



Venturing from the camps to collect firewood and water is a necessity. But it is perilous. If you are a man, you will be beaten, or killed. If you are a woman (or a young girl), you are in great danger of being raped. Sometimes repeatedly. This is not conjecture. I am not embellishing. This is fact.




Today, I stumbled upon the site of a remarkable young man from the United States, who learned of the crisis, and came up with something he could do to make a difference to these people. For just $30(U.S), a fuel-efficient wood stove is donated to families in Darfur (You can designate that your donation is used specifically for this purpose, to purchase a stove). They burn 75% more efficiently, and reduce the number of trips families have to make.

It is, I guess, a small step. But it's a step. And it's something that we can do to help. So often, I've lamented the helplessness I feel about issues such as this. I feel as though there is precious little I can do, as a mother here on the other side of the world. Short of talking about it, here and with friends, what can I possibly do to make a difference.

Well, my friends. It might be a small difference, but I'll proudly make it.

What about you?

For more, visit these pages.

http://www.stovesfordarfur.com/

http://www.facebook.com/group.php?gid=45334301967 (I've already invited some of you to the facebook group).


http://edition.cnn.com/2008/WORLD/africa/12/27/stoves.darfur/

They say the first step is admitting you have a problem.

Hi. I'm Melissa. And I have a problem. Like that's what I needed. A new one. I'm being honest, in the hope that a)I can beat this before it's too late, and b) I can warn other people of the dangers of this kind of experimentation.

Mine is the cautionary tale. The example to hold up and teach your children why they should learn, and simply leave well enough alone.

I tried it for the first time last night. I was enscorcelled almost right away. Previous experiments had never really hit the spot, but now I'm afraid I'm gone.
I sat in the dark, after Joel had gone to bed. The house was quiet, and the only light came from the screen in front of me.

At first, it was mostly curiosity. I didn't expect to love it. I didn't expect it to capture me the way it has. I've heard about other people, of course. Falling hard. Falling fast. Needing it to dull the pain, needing more each time to hold their interest.

I scoffed. I'm ashamed to admit, but I rolled my eyes at them, certain they were just weak. Not me, said I. I could try it, just once. It won't have that effect on me. I'm better than that. All of the fuss is really a bit silly. A beat up. It can't possibly be as addictive as they say.

What a fool I was. Am. What a fool I am. Because already this morning, the second Joel's car was out of our driveway, I rushed back in. I had to try again. Once more. To see if last night was a fluke. To see if it was as magnificent as I remembered.

I feel so guilty. Dirty. Ashamed. Not 10 feet from my sons, innocently watching ABC Kids in the next room. It seems wrong, so deliciously wrong to be doing this while they are there. But they're busy, right? They can't see me like this. It can't hurt them. Right?

I stumbled upon a site I'd heard of many times, but never been remotely interested in. I was online last night. I had been looking (innocently, my intentions were pure, I swear to you) for a pretty/different day planner/agenda. I've not been able to find one anywhere.

And it happened.

I don't know what to do. I don't know how to tell Joel. He'll be shocked. This isn't the woman he married, the woman he fell in love with. I'm not this person. But I feel like I'm changing. I don't know if it's the new year, or my 30s, but lately I've been unsatisfied. I feel like I need a change. I still love him. I love our life together, the family we've created. But I need more.

Can you understand that? Will he ever be able to understand? Because, dear readers, here's the thing.


I've fallen in love.

With this.

Crap. Crappity, crappity crap.


Hook. Line. Sinker.


I'm so ashamed. Will you ever be able to look at me the same way?



Did you people know about this? Did you not think to warn me? I thought you were my friends.

Cows.