Steward's Decision, A

I was placed on this earth as a guardian, a steward, to watch over
the vulnerable and weak. My job is to keep their faith and help them in
a world so set against them. But my job becomes weary now, after many,
many years watching the torment and pain that people suffer.

The irony of the situation? I became weary, not after hearing, yet
again, of the larger picture and the many people suffering everywhere,
but after watching one solitary girl as she struggled to make it to
adulthood. Her plight affected me more than anything else I have ever
seen - and she was one of the best off. Perhaps that was the thing that
cut me the most. This child had so much potential, yet people were
slowly destroying it through ignorance.

I was sent to a small school. I am always sent but never told who it is
I am sent to help&;#8230;they are obvious when I
arrive&;#8230;only she was not obvious. She had disguised herself
well and it took me a little time to see through the character she had
created for herself, (as many others before her have done), to protect
herself from the world.

When I saw the real her I was horrified by the amount of pain she
carried about with her daily. Each day I saw her, her pain increased
and became more visible to those who had not been given the gift (it is
ineptly named &;#8230; seeing people's pain all the time soon
becomes a burden, not a gift) of seeing into people's emotions. Yet no
one noticed.

When they noticed and gained the ability to help her my job would be
done and I could move on. To gain that ability they had to be able to
get her to open up to them and that was now very difficult, for she had
obviously been hurt so much that she had cut herself off from the
surrounding world. She must trust before she told all and it seemed
impossible to me that she could ever trust at all&;#8230; she seemed
too far gone. Yet I had to try to get her to trust me - that was my
job; that was what I was sent to do - but it would be a hard
task.

As I saw her more and more I gradually came to understand the cause of
her pain, but not how to stop it. I could not do that alone&;#8230;I
needed her help and the help of others who would remain to support her
when I left. As of yet she had not opened up to me, knowingly, but I
could read her body language and see into her eyes, so I knew.

A person's entire feelings can be read through their eyes, unless they
are so well practised at disguising their emotions and placing a
barrier down that they can place a barrier down in front of their eyes
as well. But I have met few of these people in my long years on earth
and hope that I shall continue to meet few as, when they place a
barrier down in front of their eyes I can no longer help them and they
are lost.

I had never failed at my job and always succeeded in helping people,
due mainly to my ability of reading their feelings and emotions through
their eyes and body language. It was a source of pride to me as well as
a source of comfort that I could make a difference in this tired world
where people are forgotten and abandoned. But now I have failed I no
longer have that to fall back on and so questions start to arise in my
mind, nagging endlessly, suggesting that I should give up and abandon
hope. It brings to mind a verse I once saw written:

Alone with her thoughts -
Not a safe place to be
As the questions run
Tirelessly through her mind,
Demanding answers
To unreasonable requests
That shake her entire being -
But that was where she was.

And that is where I am now and it hurts and confuses me.

But I did not finish telling you why these questions raise their ugly
heads in my thoughts.

I finally broke through and she opened up. Not much at first, but
little by little she grew to trust me, and as her trust grew so did the
amount of tears I shed for her plight. So young yet so hurt. What could
I do? I felt powerless - a feeling that was alien to me - and I hated
it.

I knew I could not entrust her to the care of anyone else now. I must
stay until she was ready to cope with life on her own. She had coped
admirably up until now if appearances were to be believed but the spark
of life inside her was dying. I tried to re-light it. I did my utmost
to help, support and encourage her through this&;#8230;but she was
too far gone and, eventually, the spark died completely.

She committed suicide.

In the end I did nothing to help her. I merely delayed the event that
was inevitable.

That sudden realisation angers me. I could do nothing. She was bound to
commit suicide&;#8230;there was no other ending. Her story would not
finish happily. Yet still I was sent! Why? Why was I put on trial in
such a way? I have always done my utmost to help and not failed. Why
then should my soul be trampled on in such a way?

But now I am told it was so I could see that not all stories have a
happy ending and that those who ease people's suffering - even just a
little - before the inevitable takes place do just as much good as
those who save.

Then why does this not feel as fulfilling and satisfactory? Why do I
feel wretched and miserable? Why do I want so desperately to leave my
post as steward and go after so many years? Failure hurts too much. Can
I bear the pain and soldier on to fight another battle for another
person another day?

I must&;#8230;if only for the child I failed&;#8230;her spirit
will always live in me and I will carry the pain she bore around with
me for as long as I remain on this earth. She would wish me to help
others, so I will continue to help in her name, for in her brave fight
against the inevitable lies my inspiration.

And I will continue, as she did, to fight for my beliefs, no matter how
much the tide turns against me and how powerless I feel.