King Solomon's Story

King Solomon Story

I thank God for the experience of this graceful moment. I tried to explain something to my thirteen year old daughter and she came back with total and sweet understanding. This was one those moments when what I attempted to explain penetrated her heart.

After she moved to live with her father, Kesha comes to visit every summer. The first summer was tense. I had to work and couldn’t pay to have someone to stay with her. She had grown a lot but still had mischief in her soul. The first week Kesha and Rustin got along famously. They loved on each other and were polite. It was short lived as expected. Before I knew it the summer was over and she was gone again. The next summer I had moved to Austin. Kesha loved Austin and came with enthusiasm. Before this visit, on the phone, I heard her tell me she misses me. She said she was thinking of coming home. She had said this before and to me she never really seemed serious. Long before she came this summer I had decided I wanted her to come back home. I planned on asking her about it.

When Kesha exited the terminal Rustin recognized her before I did. He pointed and said, ‘There’s Kesha.’ When I saw her I couldn’t believe my eyes. My little girl had turned into a young lady. My heart ached that I wasn’t part of it. The drive home was full of joy. Kesha has a witty sense of humor that was now complimented by her experience of becoming a young lady. All the way home I kept looking at her and we would smile. She was as big as me and beautiful as ever. I couldn’t wait to get home and spend some Mother-Daughter time. Rustin and I ended up fighting over her that night. I’m sure she loved it.

We talked every chance we got. I discovered she wanted to come home. I laid in bed with her and read to her. What surprised me was she listened, really listened. We talked and cried, we worked out and played. Before I knew, it was time for her to go back. She wasn’t sure about leaving her Dad and she felt obligated to stay with him. He had just bought a house and she was enticed. I encouraged her to go back and talk to her Dad about it.

At the departing gate I hung on to her. Again her excitement of the trip over powered her pain of leaving. She boarded the plane with half a smile. I cried for three days. It’s not that I never missed her before. I was sadder than I ever was. I think I just let myself feel my love for her.

Well Kesha is with her Dad. I haven’t heard much from her. She has a new house, dog and is playing the clarinet. She seems happy. About four months after she left we talked. She told me that she was going to stay with her Father. He had told her she would have to in order to go to this great school she wanted to go to. The School of Arts and she doesn’t like to hurt peoples feelings. After she blurted it out there was silence. I felt hurt. I couldn’t breath. I didn’t know what to say. She tried to fill the void with questions. ‘So mom how’s the job? I said, ‘Fine.’ Again the silence as I gulped my tears back. I had this thought, Mothers aren’t suppose to get their feelings hurt by their children. Once more Kesha asked another question. I didn’t hear it. I finally tried to speak. I told her, ‘I ‘m not going to keep after you about it. I will just tell you how I feel. I feel hurt. I could hear her crying. I walked delicately around my words in order not to cause guilt.

I told her if you want to stay with your Father I will support your decision. I won’t try to convince you to come home. She choked out the words, “I know.” “Kesha I love you and I won’t pull on your other arm. I won’t do that to you. I know how it hurts. I will love you even if you stay with your Father. I’ll still write, call and send you my love. Don't worry.” She started whaling with tears. “Oh mom, it’s just like that story of King Solomon. When the two Mothers..” she sobbed. “They were fighting over who’s baby it really was. He was going to cut the baby in two and give each women half. The real Mother said, ‘No, she can have the baby.’ Just like you, Mom.” The mom loved her child so much that she would give him up before letting him be torn in half and hurt.

I couldn’t believe this child’s understanding. The lump in my throat stuck there like cotton while she spoke. I cried the words, “I love you Ladybird, you are incredible.”

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A Mothers love is the most loyal of all. It hurts my heart when I see Parents hurt their children from the hurt they received as a child. Letting go of a child given to you by God can seem like a betrayal. I had to act from the heart and know that this ladybird would fly back to me one day with larger, much freer wings and understand what real love was about.