Pollyanna Is My Go To Plan

I pull out Pollyanna me because it is my go-to-game-plan. It usually works. Not this time. I am too happy. Too upbeat, too enthusiastic. I tone it down a bit, and try to get to the bottom of things. Put on my listening face, throwing my Robin Williams act to the wind. Let’s go in here, I say, where I can hear what you are saying. I give her full listening mode. My face is straight. I do not add words. I am concerned. I give her my most empathetic looks. She gradually trusts me. Tears are coming now. We hug. I feel better, she says. I am glad for her. It is not over, but maybe now she can find the tree And punch her way out of the brambles of the forest.