It matters to this one

The air of gloominess around Kiara is obvious and I have to ask her what is wrong. At first she says "Nothing." Then "I don't want to talk about it." I persist and finally get, "I don't really want to talk about it in front of everyone."

So I find an opportunity to take her aside.

"So what's wrong?" I ask.

"I just can't really explain it. . . " she says with her head down and with exaggerated hand motions. "I don't know the right words to explain it."

"Try to," I encourage.

She responds by shrugging - not sure what to say.

"When did you start feeling sad? Was it before dinner? Was it after?"

"Well. . . I guess it was at the birthday party."

A few hours earlier I had picked her up from a birthday party at the park. She had hoped into the van, handed me some candy from her goodie bag and excitedly told me all about the party. At the time everything had seemed fine.

"What happened at the party?" I ask.

Again a pause.

"Something that some of the people were doing."

She obviously wasn't going to come right out and tell me - so I continue to question:
"Were some of the kids being rude to you?"

"No."

"Were they excluding you?"

"No."

"Well what was it?"

"I don't know exactly who was doing it but it was parents too. . . but I just don't know who was and who wasn't doing it."

"Kiara, I don't care right now who was or wasn't doing it, I just need to know what they were doing. Was it something bad?"

And then, finally she comes out with it:

"It's just that there were so many people there littering and it just makes me so sad because they don't care about our environment and they would just leave their garbage on the ground even though there were two trash cans there. It makes me so sad because I just want our world to be beautiful but it doesn't matter because even if I want that, there are so many people who still litter and pollute."

I have to hide my smile. I compose myself and offer some sympathy and words of encouragement. I tell her that changing the world is a big thing and we all have to do our part and we can't let those who don't share our same vision discourage us.

"I know but it's like when we did that beach cleanup. We cleaned up all that trash and now it is back again. People just aren't reducing, re-using and recycling," her disappointment is spilling out of her along with genuine sniffles and tears.

I tell her the story of the young boy throwing beached starfish back into the ocean and his response to the man who was challenging his actions as fruitless. . . "It matters to this one". She listens to the story. She loves stories.

"You know Kiara - you have a real talent with writing. Maybe one day you'll write a book that will encourage people to care more about the environment."

She considers this for a moment. "Yeah. . . maybe."

* * * * * * *

Here is the beginning of that story written the following day. It is called "The Lost City":

Once upon a time there was this very famous city. It was so beautiful. There was no pollution and it was perfect. But then one day something happened, it disappeared. And everybody polluted and all the animals and trees got sick. It was horrible. I try to stop it but it was no use. Stealing happened. . . Fighting. . . I clearly do not want polluting.