More neighborhood madness

The other day, the two 12 year old girls that live across the street came over to see if Brian could help them saw a pop can in half for a school project. He wasn't home, but Aimee was asleep and the weather was a perfect 72 degrees, so I went outside to sit on the front step and listen to them rant about how much they love Orlando Bloom, Green Day, and Simple Plan. The neighborhood kids came out one by one and they all ended up gathering around me to talk over each other and compete for my attention, everyone accept for the tomboy in 10th grade that lives around the corner.

Now, I've had my eye on this girl since we moved in. Having worked with kids in high school and middle school, I've learned to pay attention to the typical distress signals that kids give out when they need help. This girl is a walking billboard.

So she rides her bike past my house and stops at the sidewalk right in front of me to talk to the girls. I called her over and noticed a rather large bandage on her arm.

Me: Hey Sally, what the heck happened to your arm?
Sally: Oh, I fell off my bike.
Me: Oh Really? Hmmm... What grade are you in now?
Sally: 10th
Me: Are you thinking about college yet? You know you have to think about your future starting now. If you want, I can help you research schools.
Sally: Ok. Cool.

So I sent the other kids home to have my serious "college talk" with her.

Me: Hey, So show me your arm.
Sally: Why?
Me: I want to see what happened. Show me.

So she took off her bandage and I immediately felt an overwhelming sense of panic. About 50 small cuts made with a razor blade.

Me: Sally! Did you do this to yourself?
Sally: Yeah.
Me: Praying in my mind: Oh God, Please give me the words to say to this girl. Why aren't you giving me the words? What the heck do I say? Why does everything I want to say to her right now sound so cliche? What am I getting myself into? Well, I guess I'd rather sound like a total dork to her with what I'm about to say then not say anything at all.

I will spare you all the incredibly embarrassing details of what I told her. Let's just say that after fumbling for the words, I decided to just speak from the heart, and as most of you know, my heart is mostly made of sap and cheese.

I know that cutting is a disease, that an overwhelming percentage of woman that cut have been sexually abused, and that this is way out of my league. So if you remember, even if you only do it this once, please say a prayer for her. I know God is still a miracle worker, and that these are exactly the types of miracles he likes to work. I also know that having a bunch of strangers praying for her can only help. I have faith.

By the way, her name isn't really Sally, but He'll know who you are talking about...
Thanks.