"If I could only be like Scrooge", she said

She swung the door to my classroom open, as if it were her bedroom and then let it slam behind her. "Hey, can I sit in here and work on things?" Slightly confused by her abrupt, rather authoritative demeanor and immediate action to plop on the futon in the corner, I replied as cool as possible, "Sure." "Also, could I listen to music? Mr. S lets me, so you wouldn't be the only one."  As she began to pull out her phone and ear buds, I quickly reminded her of the school policy that still applies in my classroom: no phones, ipods or other electronic devices to be used on campus without permission. She didn't roll her eyes as far back as I'd seen before, from somewhere she had picked up my vibes and I felt a mutual respect. "Well, I guess I'll just read," was her next response. "Great," I answered, "'cause I just sat down to do some blogging." Since it was my prep period and my heart had been heavy with some pretty raw emotion, I knew I needed to hammer away on the keyboard in front of this blank screen. There was a moment of silence as I stared at the screen wondering why she had come into my room. "What are you going to write on your blog?" "I'm not sure yet," I said in all honesty. "Are you going to do some Bible homework?" I asked. I knew she was failing Bible, I knew she'd been struggling with her grades all year. She'd mentioned before that she is to have family coming for graduation and that she has to graduate, yet somehow her grades rise and fall like the hills in the east. "Eh ... Miss Rhuman, it's just that I don't care about it. I'm numb. I don't care about anything. I don't care about anyone... I can't care. There's something wrong with me... I don't think that normal people are like this. Normal people don't think this much, or feel this way. I can't have normal relationships, because I can't feel anything. I have no one and it makes me so angry...." and she continued releasing everything that had been stifled. Numb. What a way to describe the human heart. Her numbness played it's tune so harmonically in my own memory after returning from a year spent in a himalayan mountain village where nobody understood my language back to a place where nobody understood a numb heart. "You know the Christmas Story? The one with Scrooge … Sometimes I imagine I can see myself, like the ghost of Christmas Past, I see myself and I just want to hug myself. If I could only be like Scrooge, I would hug me and hold me." Her tears started falling. She continued to share her family story, affairs, divorce, eating disorder turned into heart failures, and pain. Lots of pain. This young woman's heart was broken and I so badly wanted to hold her and tell her, Me too. I've been there. Numb hearts create separation. She asked me how long it would be this way, this numbness. And when I let my heart be honest I couldn't tell her that it never really goes away. "Don't give up," I told her. "God has a plan for you, you are a kind, thoughtful, intelligent and beautiful young woman. I appreciate you." I could see a few more tears roll down her cheek from across the room, just as my own filled the corners of my eyes. When was the last time she heard she was beautiful? I thought to myself. I shared with her this adventurous trip God has took me on over the past several years, since my return from the high himalayas. And I may have talked more than needed, "… and I'm not sure why I'm here, but I know that God wanted me here." It was silent for a long moment and I so desperately wanted to fill the silence with more words, but I was conscious of the temptation and pulled through the uncomfortable quiet. "You know… I bet you're here because I'm here… Um, I don't normally talk about this kind of stuff..." she went on as if to cover up her tender words. But the next thing that came from her mouth surprised me more than anything. "But I really care about you Miss Rhuman. I'm so glad you're here." Before I could say anything or wipe away tears, the bell rang and she quickly collected her things and made a move towards the door as if to slip through without a notice. "Hey!" I yelled as the door began closing behind her, "Thank you," it barely fumbled out, "Praying for you." With that she disappeared around the corner.