The Sweet Sound of a Growl

When this adorable little girl arrived at Blue Monarch with her mom and siblings, I couldn't help but think of Nell, the young woman played by Jodie Foster in a movie by the same name.  Nell had developed a strange language of her own, which was a combination of her deceased mother's distorted speech following a stroke, and a secret language she shared with her twin who had died decades earlier.  She lived a life of isolation and had not been exposed to anything different.

This young girl at Blue Monarch, let's call her "Sadie," would rush into a room and aggressively lunge at random individuals, scrunch up her face, and basically growl.  Yes, growl.  It wasn't a mean growl.  It was more of an "I don't know how to express myself, so Grrrrrrrrr!"  She rarely spoke, but when she did, her words were totally unrecognizable.  Her family members were the only ones who understood her unique language, much like Nell.  It must have been so frustrating to see people glancing at each other with puzzled expressions instead of responding to what she was saying.

Naturally, the first time I witnessed this, my instinct was to protect Sadie from kids at school who might be cruel to her.  I couldn't bear the thought of other children making fun of her odd form of communication.  We needed to get her into speech therapy right away!

Sadie was interesting to observe, and I often thought she would make a rich character in a good, Southern novel.  She was fascinating.  It was obvious she was drawn to others, but like a suspicious puppy, she jumped back just in time if anyone reached for her.  She was good at judging just the right distance to avoid being touched.  It was a mystery how she determined which ones to approach and which ones to ignore.  There was really no category in between.

As part of our recovery process, the courageous women of Blue Monarch deliver their "Readiness Statements" to their peers and our staff.  This is a powerful, often very emotional, and even painful account of the difficult journey they traveled, which landed them in a place like Blue Monarch. We have discovered this exercise brings great freedom. They express their desires to do something drastically different, and they identify the individuals they wish to hold them accountable.  The stories can be horrific and even shocking.  I have yet to hear one that is not heartbreaking.  I often wonder how they cheated death despite all the close calls.  It's a miracle, actually.  That's the only explanation I can come up with.  

But these stories are also when I fall in love with their children and begin to see them in a whole new light.  When we hear the experiences their little ones endured - and survived - we suddenly understand their behavior.  It completely makes sense.  The screaming immediately becomes less annoying, the crying becomes more meaningful, and their constant need for attention is totally understandable.  It's as if a veil is lifted, and the child transforms into a tiny person who desperately needs our help instead of a loud, unruly kid out of control.

When I heard Sadie's mother describe her personal journey, I completely understood why she cried non-stop for the first two weeks at Blue Monarch, and why her beautiful daughter only growled at others.  It suddenly made all kinds of sense.  I could see why Sadie either never learned to talk or refused to talk by choice.  No wonder.  In fact, I found myself cheering her on.  "You go girl!  You talk when you are good and ready!"

Sadie did begin working with a speech therapist, and in the meantime, she and her family settled into their new lives at Blue Monarch.  She loved our pets and farm animals.  She developed friendships with the other children at Blue Monarch.  We focused on Sadie's recovery as much as we did her mom's and she thrived with everything our robust children's program had to offer.  Sadie was a happy child and knew she was in a good place.  Her brother even pulled me aside one afternoon to tell me, "Miss Susan, you know what I love most about Blue Monarch?  I know we are safe!"  Sadie seemed to know that as well.

It took almost a year, but one day I suddenly realized Sadie had broken through many of the barriers she faced when she first arrived.  Sadie had just gotten home from school when she ran into my office with a million questions. "What's this?  What's this?"  She was a little old for those type questions, but I was happy to answer every single one.  She jumped into my lap, gave me a hug, looked out the window at the house we were building for more families and said, "Look!  That's our new house!"

I realized in that moment that I understood her speech completely and it was not because she and I had become family.  It was because Sadie was becoming a new creation - just like her mom.  If you ask me, that calls for a victory cry - like a big fat "Grrrrrrr!"  

Now that I think about it...perhaps that's what it was all along.  

Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; the old has gone, the new has come!  2 Corinthians 5:17