Another thing I never could figure out, was Starr's eating. Three times a day, she sat at the table with us, with all kinds of food in front of her, and only picked at it. But she would hoard food, as though she had been a starving child in some orphanage. (In retrospect, maybe she had spent years being very hungry at school. She would not cooperate there, and she COULD only eat a tiny scrap at a time.) I would find moldy bread under her pillow, moldy cheese under her mattress, rotten, dried up bologna sandwiches in her underwear drawer, or beneath her dresser. I tried to impress on her, that meat had to be refrigerated. That eating meat that had stayed out all night, could make her sick. But she continued to hoard meat, and be found eating it all dried up. It's a miracle she never got food poisoning.

This is Starr at twelve, with her sister Katie.

   Only now, in her mid-twenties, does she consistently refrigerate her own meat, to save for later. But she has a little refrigerator in the bedroom now, a microwave, and a cupboard full of food just for her, to open and eat day or night. I take her shopping regularly to pick out and buy her own food. (All my adult children who live at home have this same independence.) This seems to have solved the problem. Starr is a very petite and slender woman, and she eats extremely slowly. She can be found with a bowl of food in front of her any time of day. You won't really see her eat, very often, but you can see she has provided for herself, something that she needs, for some reason.

   At times, Starr would seem unusually honest. She would come to me, and confess something I had not known she did. We would pray together, and I would assure her that God had forgiven her. But the next thing I knew, she would lie straight into my face, and never back down. This was very puzzling to me, as telling the truth was very important in our family. When a child was scared of getting in trouble, all they had to do was come and tell me they had done something, and were scared to tell me. I had taught them this, so I could curb what I said in return. It was very important to me that they tell the truth. When they started out this way, no matter what they had done, I would not punish them at all, but pray with them, and forgive them. Yet Starr lied. Many times she lied for no apparent reason. I never figured this out.

   We all had to deal with her imaginary world. For years after seeing the movie "Jungle Book," she was in terror of Shere Khan. Kaa scared her too, but Shere Khan became her constant companion, and she had to ask permission of him, before doing anything at all. She let him in the door, out the door, talked to him, and listened to him. For many years, along with her sour face at each request that she do something, (like come and eat dinner), she would turn and ask Shere Khan if she could mind her mother. The trouble was, she was serious. All of her siblings learned to carefully scrutinize movies they were going to watch, and I made sure Starr did not watch the ones they thought might "freak her out." They were very good judges.

   Now this was nothing especially new, because she had always been an unusual child. But it wasn't until she became haunted by Shere Khan in her teen years, that I realized this went much farther than an imaginary life. She would be truly terrified of him at times.

   Now Starr is in her late-twenties. She does not acknowledge Shere Khan any more, but she still turns her head away from me, every time I ask her to do anything, and after a few seconds, turns her head back to me, and says "ok mom."

   I won't go into all the thought, talk, and struggle to help her that filled these years.

   Nothing ever helped, is the bottom line. Though preventing her from watching any movie that might cause her to "freak out," has undoubtedly helped her from getting worse.

   Falling in love with the show "Bonanza" helped a lot. Her constant companion became Ben Cartright. He appears to be a much more healthy friend, than a tiger. And he never seems to be an enemy.

   Starr will play baseball outside too, without a ball, a bat, or a companion. I should take a movie sometime. She misses the ball, shades her eyes, and watches to see where the ball went. She hits the ball, and runs from base to base. Her baseball cap is real, and an important part of this game. When given a chance, she likes playing baseball for real, with live people. Her brother-in-law, Curt, plays ball with her when they come over. Her face lights up when she learns that her sister Noelle and Curt are coming, with their baby son Sammy! If her brother Michael comes, she is thrilled too, because he is a baseball guy, and helps her learn baseball every time he comes. She goes and finds her plastic bat, and her baseball, and that baseball cap, and keeps them by the door!

   Her innate ability to do charades, and pantomime could earn money, if she was a regular person. She always could imitate the exact sounds that my nursery babies, her helpless sisters and brothers made. When she giggled like one of them, I could not tell if it was the child, or Starr. She got a lot of attention by this talent, and I found it very charming!

   She will have loud arguments with someone who isn't there. I can never tell what it is about, as I only hear one side, and I never know who wins.

   Starr can be an entrancing person. She will go outside quietly in the night, and gaze at the moon or stars. She will go outside in the snow, and tip her head back, feeling the flakes melting on her face and lifted hands. She will go outside in the wind, close her eyes, and laugh while it tosses her hair. She is a very happy person with her own inner life. She sometimes dances, gracefully, outside in the wind, tenderly holding a man who isn't there. I suspect it might be Ben. She tips her head back, and talks to him, listens to him, and nods, smiling. My heart feels so tender toward her.

   But these sweet parts of her don't often translate to live human beings. She has never cared much for being hugged, or hugging back. She has to be in the mood. But just in the past year, I've been asking her to give me a quick squeeze, and I'm getting some response from her! Her natural type of hug is a very light, almost imperceptible hug. I like natural squeezes. I find the very light hug a rather odd feeling. It has given many adults "the willies" because it's so strange. So I'm really happy that she just began, in her mid-twenties, to be willing to attempt to squeeze me a bit! It just feels much more normal.

   Starr is now an adult, and her traits are still her own. I am the one who has learned to change. My daughter is a petite, quiet, unobtrusive person. When she smiles, it is one of the most beautiful smiles I've ever seen. When she is friendly to me, it is one of the warmest feelings around. When she is helpful to me, I thank her from the bottom of my heart. I tell her that God is pleased with her too, when she is kind to her mom. Just as I know He is pleased with me, for being kind to her. She has, however, been improving in the past few years. She communicates better, and is more willing to help. Just recently, I told her quietly that the sour face she gave me when I asked her to help me, made me feel gloomy. Of all things, the next day she came and smiled at me! I smiled back. "I've been thinking about not giving you a sour face." She said. My heart melted! I know she has a conscience, and perhaps she's going to turn out a nicer, and sweeter girl at last! God could do that. And He very well may.

   An update from Oct., 2004, is that ever since I told Starr that her smile made me feel happy, Starr has become much more interested in helping me. I mean, without looking nasty, and without the bad attitude. There has been a REAL change! She will even VOLUNTEER, which is so rare! She will go wash the stove and frig and counters, which is something she does better than anyone else does. (I tell her so, too.) Then she comes to us, and tells us what she has done, in great detail, with smiles, and we give her lots of praise - lots of surprise and delight, which she clearly loves! Hey, things are looking up!

   The most important thing today, is the long list of lessons that God has taught me through this daughter. I love her very dearly. If everyone was the same, wouldn't it be a boring world? Well, this daughter may occasionally frustrate me, but she certainly doesn't bore me! Starr is my precious daughter, whom God chose to be my own. I taught her Psalms 100:2, when she was a little girl, and I too, will serve the Lord with gladness.

   And, Lord willing, we will continue to live happily ever after!

(C) 2004 Rosemary J. Gwaltney