At first, the guardians were nice. They showered her with gifts. They even doted on her. Back at home; life was tolerable. There was still an absence of laughter. “At least they aren’t hurting me,” she said to herself. One morning, she was startled awake by a familiar sound. She heard a loud BANG! Rubbing her sleepy, confused eyes she got up quickly, and went to her door. As she opened her bedroom door to the hallway, she saw something. There, before her eyes, stood her miserable matron with that same look of scorn she knew from before. Their eyes met. Instantly, the matron had her hands gripped around the little girl’s throat. While being lifted off the ground by her throat, she tried to fight back. It was no use. The matron’s grip was too tight.
What magnified the terror this girl felt, was how quickly the matron’s anger had escalated. Usually it took a while before the matron wanted to choke her. It was as though, new breath in the girl infuriated the miserable matron; she could not stand to see her girl drawing in new breath, and sparkling with new life.
This time the horrible guardian was past the point of no return. Her grip was the death grip. The paternal guardian happened upon the scene and the girl motioned for help. This time, instead of turning away, he blurted out “Oh go ahead!” “Do it already!” He ordered the matron. At that moment, the little one blacked out. Silence…
When she came to, there was her Comforter. Arrayed with brightly shining golden clothes, he stood before her. Was she dreaming?! Was she dead? She looked around and saw no sign of her angry guardians. “It’s okay now, child”, the Comforter promised with an assuring, and affectionate tone of voice. She lifted her arms. Even without speaking a word, he knew what that meant. He picked her up and placed her on his lap. As she leaned into him he could hear her heart beating. He wiped her tears. “Why does it hurt?” She asked. While choking in between sobs she looked up at him and asked, “What did I do wrong? Why do they beat me?” The Comforter drew in a deep breath as he paused; ” because darling, they don’t know who they are.”
He spoke great words of truth, and life to her and she stayed in his arms, for a very long time. He taught about identity and she struggled to understand. With a furrowed brow, she asked, “So, when you don’t know your identity, that means you want to hurt others?” “Not right away,” he responded. His eyes showed sadness as he commented, “I don’t know why they wanted to take away your breath of life; I gave them their own.” “What I do know, my lovely, is that when you lose hope, and have forgotten who you are, it makes for a wicked , treacherous combination.” He continued. “When you know who you are, and the breath of life has been given you, farthest from your mind, is the thought of wounding another.”
“Your guardians lost sight of the truth, as children,” he explained. “You see their guardians failed to nourish their breath of life, so with no cultivation, they never really knew how to breathe.” They did not like that you could, and they could not.”
Looking up at him, while searching his eyes, she asked, “Do I know my identity?” It was as though she was begging, from the depths of her soul, for hope from him. “April?” She was startled and then smiled. “Yes, Lord?” She asked. He winked at her and said, “I think you do; for I have called you by name, you looked at me, and answered me.”
“April!” As though she were trying it on for size. “Yes. I like that,” the girl said. “My name is, April. The Comforter called me by name.” With a sigh of relief, she leaned back into him, and thought, ” Now I know who I am.”