A Tear

Once, there was a little girl named Sadness. It was probably the depressants her father took before holding her mother’s hand in the birthing room. It could also probably be the backward sense of humor only hippies of that age could understand. Whatever the case, Sadness came to be. Everything about her seemed small. The hospital staff saw her as an omen.

But Sadness was really anything but for she refused to repeat herself. When she scraped her knees at school, she would let out a loud ‘Whoops!’ flinging her whole body into the air as if wishing the accident that beseeched her scrawny legs be carried away by the winds.

Despite what other people thought, there was really nothing strange about her except for those who cared too look really closely. It had seemed, even at an early age, she wanted to be the antithesis of her name. She knew, by being who she was, people would withdraw from her as some of her classmates whose mothers were uncomfortable such a name did.

But most of those she knew, apart from the ones who judged too easily, seemed to be drawn to Sadness. Of course, adults only knowing half of what a child knew, they easily mistook cheerfulness for happiness. They’d just as easily think a brightly-colored toy could replace the sight of dancing fireflies in the school yard. How convenient. Nevertheless, people just thought of Sadness as the pleasant girl with a weird name.

‘I’m sad.’, one of her classmates would say.

‘No, you’re not, stupid. You’re Ted for Teddy.’ know-it-all Jenny Alcaraz would say. ‘She’s Sad.’

They would start to squabble in high-pitched voices that drowned the laughter in the playground. Sadness would then come in between them then because she did so hate anyone fighting. People were never allowed to be gloomy when she was around.

Soon, the whole class was infected with Sadness’ aversion and everyone always wore a smile on their face, a spring in their step, a soft lilt in their voice as if they were expecting gold stars to be stamped on their hands or spanked with rulers if they didn’t.

‘That’s life.’ Teddy would say like a grown-up, when his parents separated, and he left to choose where to live.

‘We’ll be so much more comfortable now.’, said Dresa when her father left for the States to work for three years, excitedly narrating what kind of dolls her father might get from there.

‘There’s a reason that he died. God wants him in heaven.’, said Jenny without even shedding a tear when her dog, Peanut, died.

‘I needed a new look anyway.’ reasoned Kate when the barber cut too much of her hair and her once long locks were now like a husk pasted on somebody’s head.

Sadness smiled because she knew, for some reason, it was her that brought such peace and sedateness to their days. Tomorrow she would keep guard again.

And so it followed that there was no grief. No remorse. No regret. And no acceptance in Section Faith of Miss Alvarez’s Class.

It was then that the whole room came to a standstill for days, then months on end. They neither squabbled or cried or had tantrums anymore. But neither was there authentic amazement when the cocoon Miss Alvarez placed in an aquarium finally broke free and the butterfly went around the room, flitting on each one’s shoulders like it did flowers. Nor was there a round of relief and pats on backs when Dresa finally returned after she broke her arm and was out for a week.

There was no excited banter in the air when the principal gave away free ice cream to the whole school nor was there a secret burning in their hearts when at long last, they seemed to have found something that they liked. Teddy managed a polite Thanks when people complimented him on his dragon drawing. Kate just acknowledged her singing voice as if she knew she could carry a tune all along. And Sadness, well, Sadness was quite confused. Was this what she had really wanted all along? Still, she kept the act like the rest of them.

Then one day, the dam broke. It started out as a rainy day and what would’ve been a trip to their garden to tend to the cherry tomatoes ended with doing their Maths for the whole afternoon instead. The outpour outside continued and suddenly, there came a sobbing from the back of the room. Dresa was staring at a tree, balling quite loudly. In its branches were a group of baby birds, its nest dangerously tipping to the right. They couldn’t hear. It was just too far. But all of them knew the birds were chirping, their mouths pointing upward like arrows. Everyone started joining in. Looking at the branch and rubbing their eyes back and forth. Their chins reached the window’s ledge as they began following the nest’s movement until it eventually toppled down and was swept away by the current.

‘It’s okay to cry, you know’, Miss Alvarez said coming out from behind Sadness who was stuck in her seat, looking at everyone. ‘The great thing about tears is it’s like the rain. Each drop can be a different thing to different people. You may cry because you’re sad now. But you may also cry because you’re too happy tomorrow.’

When the bell came, everyone tried to look for the nest. They scattered all around the playground, the garden, the front yard. Sadness sat down on a tree stump, staring at the nest which was already partly destroyed. And there in that little stump where furrow met soil, she hugged her knees, keeping vigil over the empty basket of grass. Sadness tried to shed a tear. She really did. But nothing came out for somehow, she had already forgotten how to be herself. She was sure, the way a child often was about these things that would’ve been key to her happy ending.