“The day after Dixie and Guy left on their mission, these parts of me wrote a powerful poem that symbolically expressed what was really going on inside. It was written as if addressed to Dixie's other children:"
THE BEGGAR CHILD
(1994)
She quietly enters the room--
black wide eyes gazing with hunger.
She tries SO hard
NOT to be noticed--
begging with her silent eyes
to be allowed to stay,
if only in a corner,
sitting on the floor with knees pulled up,
desperate to be allowed to watch and listen,
wanting to drink in the luxury
of what she has never known before.
She watches tables piled high
with smells she is unfamiliar with.
She watches people in luxury
and craves merely a crumb of what they gorge on,
but feels undeserving of anything.
She feels it a luxury for her
merely to be allowed a corner of the room
to hide in.
She feels undeserving of the very crumbs off the floor
but her hungry eyes beg for food
even in her terror of being sent away!!
Suddenly some kind soul hands the child a plate
piled high with delectable delights.
The hollow eyed child cannot believe it is real
and even with the first bite,
feels insatiable hunger never capable of being satisfied.
She tries to eat the wondrous life sustaining food
but quickly finds her swollen but shrunken stomach
with no place inside to put the food.
OH you lucky ones!--
you who have known physical and emotional safety!
Do you know what banquet you feast from?!?
Do you know of the millions like me--
black hollow eyes filled to overflowing with aching need,
hungering insatiably for what you have,
with an emotional starvation
that feels incapable of ever being filled?!?
You did not create the beggar child within me.
The beggar child me,
though no longer afflicted from without,
still lives within.
Though through your kindness you would share all,
yet the child within does not know how to trust
either the reality or the enduring possibility of your love.
Her wide needy eyes--
when sometimes no longer capable of disguise--
gaze out of my own.
I walk into the room.
I have tasted of the banquet of your mother’s love,
and I feel the hunger pangs increase.
Desperately I crave the security
that you have known your whole life,
but feel undeserving of even a single crumb.
I try so hard!
Please!
If only I could disappear and be invisible!
If only I can be good and quiet enough,
and if I just stay in the corner,
so no one notices me,
Please can I just stay and watch and listen?
Can I watch with awe
your relaxed interactions,
your absence of fear,
your ease with emotional and physical closeness?
Oh please don’t send me away!
I am SO hungry!!!
I desperately crave the feast of safe physical touch,
of being near your mother.
No one needs to talk to me or me to them.
Please, if only I could be near her,
and if she could touch me--
a hand on the arm or shoulder?
If only I could curl up next to her feet--
then I could feel safe!!
But beggar child that I am,
I fear I am intruding.
And terrified that I might be sent away hungry,
I watch from a distance--
afraid to beg for a crumb.
Please let me stay
and drink in the wondrous sight!
Will there ever be a time
when I won’t feel like that beggar child--
feeling desperately undeserving of every crumb that comes my way?
Perhaps my bulging empty belly of need
will never be filled!
Perhaps my insides are not capable of holding plenty.
But then again,
can time and gentle enduring love begin to fill
the vast empty wasteland within
and make a healthy place
where love like a full plate--
though never expected,
could find a place inside,
and even be digested?
OH PLEASE!!!
Is the room in the corner of your mansion
that you make for me,
enduring?!?
OH you lucky few,
consider the millions of beggar children like me!!!!
(My Tears Fall Inside, pages 162-165)
(1994)
She quietly enters the room--
black wide eyes gazing with hunger.
She tries SO hard
NOT to be noticed--
begging with her silent eyes
to be allowed to stay,
if only in a corner,
sitting on the floor with knees pulled up,
desperate to be allowed to watch and listen,
wanting to drink in the luxury
of what she has never known before.
She watches tables piled high
with smells she is unfamiliar with.
She watches people in luxury
and craves merely a crumb of what they gorge on,
but feels undeserving of anything.
She feels it a luxury for her
merely to be allowed a corner of the room
to hide in.
She feels undeserving of the very crumbs off the floor
but her hungry eyes beg for food
even in her terror of being sent away!!
Suddenly some kind soul hands the child a plate
piled high with delectable delights.
The hollow eyed child cannot believe it is real
and even with the first bite,
feels insatiable hunger never capable of being satisfied.
She tries to eat the wondrous life sustaining food
but quickly finds her swollen but shrunken stomach
with no place inside to put the food.
OH you lucky ones!--
you who have known physical and emotional safety!
Do you know what banquet you feast from?!?
Do you know of the millions like me--
black hollow eyes filled to overflowing with aching need,
hungering insatiably for what you have,
with an emotional starvation
that feels incapable of ever being filled?!?
You did not create the beggar child within me.
The beggar child me,
though no longer afflicted from without,
still lives within.
Though through your kindness you would share all,
yet the child within does not know how to trust
either the reality or the enduring possibility of your love.
Her wide needy eyes--
when sometimes no longer capable of disguise--
gaze out of my own.
I walk into the room.
I have tasted of the banquet of your mother’s love,
and I feel the hunger pangs increase.
Desperately I crave the security
that you have known your whole life,
but feel undeserving of even a single crumb.
I try so hard!
Please!
If only I could disappear and be invisible!
If only I can be good and quiet enough,
and if I just stay in the corner,
so no one notices me,
Please can I just stay and watch and listen?
Can I watch with awe
your relaxed interactions,
your absence of fear,
your ease with emotional and physical closeness?
Oh please don’t send me away!
I am SO hungry!!!
I desperately crave the feast of safe physical touch,
of being near your mother.
No one needs to talk to me or me to them.
Please, if only I could be near her,
and if she could touch me--
a hand on the arm or shoulder?
If only I could curl up next to her feet--
then I could feel safe!!
But beggar child that I am,
I fear I am intruding.
And terrified that I might be sent away hungry,
I watch from a distance--
afraid to beg for a crumb.
Please let me stay
and drink in the wondrous sight!
Will there ever be a time
when I won’t feel like that beggar child--
feeling desperately undeserving of every crumb that comes my way?
Perhaps my bulging empty belly of need
will never be filled!
Perhaps my insides are not capable of holding plenty.
But then again,
can time and gentle enduring love begin to fill
the vast empty wasteland within
and make a healthy place
where love like a full plate--
though never expected,
could find a place inside,
and even be digested?
OH PLEASE!!!
Is the room in the corner of your mansion
that you make for me,
enduring?!?
OH you lucky few,
consider the millions of beggar children like me!!!!
(My Tears Fall Inside, pages 162-165)
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