And then there's G.A.

I had lunch with a friend yesterday. She's just moved into a new apartment here in Mimico, not five minutes from me. She was excited to show me her new place.

"Why don't you come a bit earlier, Dale?" she said and I could hear her smiling on the phone. "Come over around 10:30 this morning. I'm looking forward to seeing you again. We haven't gotten together in ages. I have so much news to tell you. You'll be my first real visitor."

"OK, G.A." I said. "I'll be there in half an hour."

So I went. G.A. met me at the door, offered me her radiant smile and a warm hug, and led me down the stairs to her new apartment.

It was big, Ms J. Bigger than I'd imagined. And roomy. The furniture was mis-matched and threadbare, obviously donated by caring friends whose beaming faces shone from a dozen glossy snapshots taped to the fridge and walls.

"Wow! It's big in here, G.A!"

"Yeah," she smiled and brushed her wavy brown hair away from her face. "Come see the rest of the place."

The kitchen was tidy and pleasant. Dishes and dry goods were stored neatly on shelves against the far wall. The counter top was tiny, but clean. The floors, although showing a great deal of wear, were clean. She put her hand on my back and propelled me through another doorway.

"Here's the bedroom. This is my bed and that's Hanna's over there."

It was Spartan, Ms Journal. But it was clean and tidy. Both beds had been neatly made. She turned to me and offered again that brilliant smile. Her brown eyes suggested laughter. Joy and intense pride simmered there, just beneath the surface.

"My own place! Isn't it great?"

G.A.'s aura shone bright white and cast a luminous wonder over everything there. I felt warm. I felt so ... I don't know, Ms J. Proud, I suppose. Happy for her. And affected by her enthusiasm. Her youthful enthusiasm. G.A. celebrated her seventeenth birthday last April.

My friend has not enjoyed an easy Life thus far. She and her younger sister, Hanna were born into a family of "have nots." I'm sure her parents did the best they knew how, but ... well, in my opinion, it was inadequate. They moved frequently and the girls had to find new friends in new schools. Demons such as mental illness and substance abuse were unwelcome guests, which the young sisters accommodated as best they could. They were, after all, only children.

I don't know all the sordid details, Ms J. But I do know this much: My young friend has something that my neighbour, Sherry does not.

G.A. loves herself.

Somehow, despite the odds, G.A. knows that she has value. Self worth. That's why she's found her own apartment, away from her father. That's why she keeps it and herself clean. She's proud of what she has. And she's grateful for the social assistance that makes it possible

Every morning, the two girls get up and go off to school. They know the value of education. They know that without it, they'll end up like their father. They love their father. And their mother too, I suppose. But they love themselves and so desire good things. They feel deserving of good things. I can't imagine either of these young ladies finding themselves in a situation like my friend across the street.

Maybe that's the answer then, Ms J. Maybe that's the answer to the question I asked about why some people seem to suffer so while others do not. The answer is Love. It's always Love, isn't it?

This time, it's the Love of self. Donna loved herself enough to divorce me and flee my controlling nature. I loved myself enough to admit I was in trouble and ask for help.

If we believe we're God's children, we must look after ourselves and love ourselves as He does. God must surely ache to see us not reaching our full potential. He must hurt to see us struggle just as any parent would.
Maybe the "have nots" are so named because they "have not" discovered their own immeasurable value.
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At the kitchen table yesterday, I dipped my sandwich into my bowl of soup and looked at G.A. I studied her face for a moment before I spoke.

"Girl Alex?" I said.

"Yes, Dale?" Her eyebrows rose with the corners of her mouth.

"I hope Meagan turns out just like you."