An Allegory

There was a little girl who brought much sorrow to her parents' hearts.  They loved her so much that it hurt them deeply when she was in pain, and she was always in pain!  They tried to help her, but she thought they were just making it worse.  She assumed that they would not want her to be happy, so she hid her passions away in the dark so they could not see them.  Unfortunately, she could not see in the dark, so her passions sat neglected and the girl forgot how to feel.  Her parents wrote her loving notes everyday telling her how deeply they cared for her, but the little girl refused to read them because she assumed that they were nothing but criticism. The little girl would talk to her parents at night sometimes and beg them for love and attention, but, before they had a chance, she would immediately turn and shut herself in her room away from them, hurt that she was once again alone.

This behavior affected her so much that it began to seep into her whole world.  The colors were dull; the food and drink was bland; all of the comfort became like cardboard.  Soon there was darkness around every corner.  Every effort the little girl made to fix her world fell flat.  She repainted her room twenty times, but the walls remained a dull gray.  She kept making new food, but it always tasted the same.  When she went to sleep at night she would pull her blanket up to her chin, but she remained cold.  And she was always plagued by fear so tangible that she could feel it breathing down her neck at every moment.  The harder life became for this little girl, the more she wanted to hide.  The problem was that she was hiding in the cold, dark room that was killing her.  And all the while, letters piled up under her door.

The little girl would glance at a letter every now and then.  "I love you," it would say, "I have good things for you."  But the little girl was sure there was a catch.  She knew that their love would be yet another chain weighing her down, holding her back from happiness and life.  She knew her parents didn't want her happiness; they wanted her to be good.  She sure wasn't good, so she could only envision disappointment, struggle, and ultimately, rejection.

Finally, the little girl got to the breaking point.  She knew if she didn't reach out, she was headed down a road she might not be able to come back from.  So, she hung a sign out her window.  "Help!" the sign read, "I am trapped in this dark room and my life is fading away!"  The little girl was amazed.  Signs began appearing in other windows.

"It's dark here, too!"

"I understand; I used to live in the dark!"

"My sign could say the exact same thing!"

The girl felt a little better.  Her room didn't really get lighter (although, having the window open let some fresh air in which made a grand difference), but the little girl knew that she was not the only one in the world who felt this way.  The darkness was there, but the oppressive loneliness was lessened.

The monotony of the inside of her room was broken up when she held her head out the window.  She began spending more time that way and was feeling better when someone said, "Hey, you should read all of those notes from your parents."  The little girl nodded in agreement.  Yes, she knew very well that she should read those notes.  But she didn't.  She was starting to feel better.  She didn't want to read those notes and be condemned.  She didn't want to hear the accusing, painful words that she knew would be written in those notes.

One day, the girl was sitting in her cold, gray room, and she knew that this was the time.  She needed to see what her parents had written to her, even if it would make her feel worse.  She felt bolstered by the care of the people outside, and she really felt that she should read them, even if she didn't really want to.  The first one was just as she suspected, a list of "don'ts".

Don't paint your room gray, it will make you depressed.

Don't use the same bland ingredients to make your food, it will taste terrible.

Don't cover yourself with that thin blanket you have, you will be cold.

Don't hide away in the dark, you will never be able to live out your passions there.


"I know, I know!" the little girl cried, "I know I am doing it all wrong, but I don't know how to do it any differently!  This is all I have to work with, what do you want from me?"  She resolved to try to do better, but she did not feel hopeful at all.  This was all a familiar routine to her; she had read this much before.  She kept reading, but this time she found something new that she was not expecting.

Ask us for some new paint, because we would love to give you some - any color you want!

We have so many exciting recipes for you to try, and we have all of the ingredients you need right in the house.

We have so many warm blankets and clothes out here for you, if you would just let us give them to you.  If you want, we can turn the heat up in your room, as well.  Just tell us, if that is what you need.

You inherited those passions from us, darling girl, we want you to live them as fully as possible!  Tell us what you need, we will make it happen.

All this time, the little girl had been trying to live and make her parents happy, but she had given up because she felt like she just couldn't live up to their standards.  And all this time her parents had been trying to help.  Their standards weren't so high for the sake of high standards.  They were just trying to teach her how to live the best life possible, a life that would not only make her happy, but influence and benefit the people around her as well.  All she had to do was ask, and the tools to a better life would be hers.  Those letters were a source of hope, not a weight for her to carry.

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I want so badly to say that she lived happily ever after, but I think we all know that stories don't really end that way.  She probably has days where she gets angry at her parents or doesn't understand why they request certain things of her.  Sometimes she gets so caught up with life in her room (especially with its new paint color), that she neglects to read the notes from her parents and she misses out on some wonderful thing they had in store for her.  She has good days, too.  Life goes on for her, as it does for us all, but I hope she remembers life in her cold, gray room so that she never lets it get like that again.