you will never become familiar with [natural] beauty

as the children disperse amongst the playground, katherine silently walks toward the picnic table with her thin strawberry hair swaying in her face. her face focused on the muddy splotches of grass, though her mind soared elsewhere. visions of this morning dance around her tiny little head. i notice her isolation from the other kids, her classmates, her friends, so i approach the warped wooden table perhaps to cheer her up. i ask "how was our day today, katherine?" in an optimistic cower, "lousy," is all i got out of her. after a few minutes of asking more questions i look up into the sky and see the swirled white clouds guided by the bitter wind. gaze into the bare branch bobbing up and down, its all part of the picture. the neatly shingled roof of the school shielded by a flurry of gray. the sparkling spots of the afternoon sun. katherine with her elbows both on the tabletop holding up her smooshed freckled face; but now, talking. and i could hear every word.
she tells me that her cat threw up this morning, five times in five different places among her house. and there was blood on her deck. in the backyard were footprints in the snow that she claimed belonged to coyotes. "do you really think coyotes could have come into your backyard, and could those tracks maybe just be your cats?" I questioned. "Bigby would never run away for this long, he's afraid of it out there, he always comes home," she shot back. "everything just felt like a rush this morning."
i couldn't believe it when she told me that her parents had already said that if Bigby didn't come back then they can't get another cat, and suggested a fish for a future pet. when the word "fish" regretfully splat out of her mouth i could see her young heart break in her glared eyes. the cup of skin below was filling up like a bucket of water underneath a running faucet. attempts of comforting her fell short, i changed the subject. i talked about the school day. she talked about how this is all she could think about during the school day. "my parents have posters with Rigby on it, it says missing cat." this conversation was so honest, rubbing shoulders with the human spirit. the words i heard captured my full attention though my mind saw it as though watching an aging film strip with no words or music. the uncontrollable have found clarity.
another adult puts her arm around katherine and asks her what's the matter. already warmed up, she spits out the same story she told me. then the adult pulls katherine aside and asks her to go for a walk and holds her arm around her tiny body. it becomes another story. and the wind still rushes through the playground as i stare off into the beauty of the day knowing that i will never become completely familiar with it. the reality of the bitter coldness that we all play in has hardened some new skin. the capability of holding something more, something tangible squeezes the passions of youth without giving them much of a chance. while katherine waits by the fish tank for Bigby to come back home, i'll think of her sitting right in front of me and i'll remember that there's nothing i could do.