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May I Color You In?
“Little Girl, if you could be any color, what color would you be?”
“I would be yellow” said the Little Girl, “Because yellow is the color of light and warmth and happiness. The sun is yellow, and everyone and everything is happiest when the sun is out.”
“Little Girl, if you could be any animal, what would you be?”
“I think I would like to be a deer, because they are so peaceful, always minding their own business. Sometimes they get into trouble and get scared and run away. Sometimes I get into trouble and get scared and run away, too, though.”
“And, Little Girl, if you could be any flower, which one would you be?”
“Well I would not be a rose, as roses as beautiful, they also have thorns, and could hurt you. Many people are roses. I think that I’d rather be a daffodil, a white one, because they are easy to pick and look most beautiful when the sun is shining on them, in the spring time.”
The Little Girl then paused and looked at me. “May I color you in, missus?”
“What do you mean, ‘color me in?’”
“You are black and white, missus. You have no color. I can see the thick, black outline of your shape- you are human. I can also see black patches inside of you, that is where you have been hurt. The rest of you is just white, absorbing all the hurt the world gives you.” She takes out her crayons. “I will give you a nice, red, healthy heard first. Your heart will be unbreakable and strong. The one you now carry is all broken and patched up, there are bandages slipping off of it, tape holding it together.” She takes out a red and colors me a new heart.
“I will now color your insides yellow. Yellow is the color of joy. If you feel yellow, then you will give off yellow, and you will make people happy.” She does not take out a yellow, though, but an eraser.
“Little girl, what are you doing?”
“I must erase your hurt before I color you in. For, you cannot have joy without getting rid of your hurt first.” She then colors me yellow. She colors my flesh a fresh, peachy color. Then she takes each strand of my hair and colors it pink.
“Pink is a simple, happy color.” The Little Girl said. “And now your lips will be plump and red, and your eyes shall be a very deep turquoise. Such a color that someone may look into them and see their own reflection.”
She stops, satisfied. “Now, missus, how do you feel?”
“Why, Little Girl! I feel so much lighter, I feel so much happier! I feel as if I have been lifted from this earth and placed into heavenly abyss!”
The Little Girl dips her hand into some paint, and paints a rainbow across the calm, blue sky. She paints a yellow ball of sun in the corner, and smiling faces of people all around.
“Color makes people happier, missus.” She stops to admire her work. She then turns to me, handing me a box of new, sharp pointed crayons. “But color does not last forever, missus. If you want to stay colorful and happy, you must try. You must color back in the spaces that have faded away, or you will be black and white again. You will be unhappy. And, also, missus, the color will not work if you do not have a smile on your face.” The Little Girl thinks for a moment and then speaks again, “Also, if more black spots appear, then it is your job to get rid of them. Do not come to me to erase anymore pain.”
She turned to leave then, holding out a hand for me to shake. I took it, and sparks of yellow and orange sprang out from our grip.
“We were transferring our joy” The Little Girl said, her dress now a brighter shade of orange, her hair now a sparkling orange. “I must go now, missus. Do not forget to color.”
“Thank you, Little Girl.”
She was gone, leaving small, glittering footsteps.
I looked around then, seeing all the people around me differently. That woman was mostly black, very, very hurt. That man had some color to him, but it was very dull and faded.
I looked up at the sky, at the Little Girl’s painting, and wished suddenly that everyone could see with the eyes of the Little Girl.
“Missus!” I suddenly called to the sore, hurting lady, “May I color you in?”