365 Days (Part 1) | ✓

26. Closed Doors

27. Closed Doors: What's behind the door? Why is it closed?

She took a deep breath and placed her hand on the cool doorknob, encircling the shiny metal with her palm, covering it. Her breath came out in a light, soft sigh, just like the flutter of a butterfly's wing. She was herself a delicate human being. At nine years old she was tiny and thin, with fine, fragile bones under her pale skin. Her eyes had a luminous quality and the way she stared at you was both innocent and world-weary. This little girl had an ethereal beauty, but she gave the impression that such loveliness could not long be tolerated for long on our sick earth. Indeed, she was not destined to live long.

It was odd then, that she should find the hope of happiness. It was not happiness exactly, but it gave her the closest feeling to happiness that she had ever before experienced. She was scared of messing it up. She was simply terrified of confronting this unknown emotion. Being unknown, it was intimidating.

Her name was Sarah, and she was alone. That, however, was about to change.

Sarah stared at the door, taking her wispy breaths. It was a nice door, as far as doors go, being clean and simple. There were very tiny grain lines upon it -- she supposed to add texture.

Her mind abstractly noted these details scientifically, because if she abandoned that cool, observing side of herself, she would succumb to the emotion attacking her.

Sarah was glad that the door had been closed. It gave her a moment to collect herself. She was almost ashamed to admit it, but the closed door allowed her a few brief moments to savor the last bits of her life as she knew it. It is an odd thing: Usually we do not know when our life will change. We are unable to accurately predict when the daily routine we experience now will give way to another. We cannot discern when we change.

The door to Sarah resembled change. It hid her new life, but Sarah knew what awaited her on the other side of the door.

She slowly turned the knob, took another breath -- deeper this time -- and once again paused. It was necessary to pause, to say goodbye to Sarah the orphan.

The door was pushed open. How did she find the courage to do that? She did not know.

The room was empty save for two people: a man and a woman. Both had been looking at the door expectantly before it was opened, and subsequently both looked at Sarah when she replaced it. Sarah did not look at their faces so much as who they were.

The man was bounding with joy. There was a light to his face, a sort of kindness that gave it character. The woman was as strong as love, and Sarah saw it in her that she was loving -- that she wanted to lavish that love on Sarah.

There was a less than a second of hesitation, but then the two sides rushed toward each other. It was almost unconscious. It felt more like the floor was shrinking and responsible bringing them together more than themselves. Then the three people were crushed together in a beautiful mess of tears and words that meant less than their meaning and arms that wouldn't let go.

What was behind the door? Sarah's new family.