When Strangers Become Strange

I really can't recall when it happened exactly. I know that as soon as Caitlin could focus her eyes the world was her family. She responded to every eye contact, every face and smile as if greeting a long lost friend.

She feared no one; strangers were not strange.

During her toddler stage I had an acquaintance whose daughter (five years old) was thought to be kidnapped. Years later her body was found and it was evident that she'd wandered off and there was no kidnapping. Before she was found her disappearance was the impetus behind milk containers displaying missing children's pictures. Often I read about teaching your child to be fearful and distrustful of strangers. I struggled with 'teaching' children fear.

I did teach her to fear the hot burner and the busy streets. But how could I teach her that everyone was to be mistrusted. When she was an infant and toddler she reached out to the whole world, inviting strangers over to our house. And they came.

She had piercing dark brown eyes and was bald into her third year. She would see a pair of eyes and a smiling face talking to her and she would beam. Maybe all children are like that. The three that followed were somewhat that way. They may have been as friendly but life got busier as more children came and I just don't remember.

Caitlin would stand at the big window in our living room and wave at anyone that went by. She would go into the arms of anyone and was never frightened to leave my arms for another; whether old or young, black or white, rich or poor - It didn't matter to her.

And eventually I had to teach her to be careful, cautious and not to trust those we didn't know. I hated doing that.

When she was a toddler her great-grandmother (100 years old) moved into a board and care home five doors from us. We already had the habit of visiting the elderly in the home once or twice a week. Now we had blood family there but the children treated them all with kindness; not realizing that they weren't all related to us.

We also visited another home five more houses away for the physically and mentally handicapped. After a visit when one sixty year old acted like a toddler I had to explain her behavior. I knew my young ones did not understand handicapped, challenged or mentally impaired so I told them they had 'baby hearts' (if you can think of a better way to talk to toddlers about broken people, let me know). I found out recently (my children now being between 18-24) that they were very embarrassed when in their early teens they explained to someone about the adults who had baby hearts. Guess I neglected to tell them the more accurate, scientific, and social descriptions.

My 'mother heart' broke slowly over the years as my bright eyed lover of the world began to be wary of others. She learned that people can be hurt by words and fists and that others didn't love her as she loved them. Others became others and the stranger became strange.