Disclaimer: I don't own Hey Arnold!...If I did there would be far
more...interesting...plotlines...that involved purple monkeys...
I don't own Michael W. Smith, or the song Draw Me Close...wish I did...
In the little copse of trees in the park, trees that, although it was spring, were still dead, a blonde-haired girl sat with her knees curled up to her chest and her head resting on them. The muffled sounds of her sobs could be heard only a short way away, and only by one who was trying to hear them over the sounds of life in the park. Her weeping sounded as though it had been drawn from her very soul, making a listener feel as though the weight of the world had been placed on the slender shoulders of the small teenager.
In the seventeen years she had been alive, never had Helga felt more alone than right now. With every passing second, the ragged hole in her heart that had been cut into and healed thousands of times before, grew worse and worse. She could feel her soul seeping out of her to pool into the grass, taking with it her every desire to go on living. Though she had always been alone, with a negligent father, alcoholic mother, and a spoiled, selfish, big sister, Helga had always had her dreams, her poetry, and her love for a football-headed boy named Arnold. She had never truly realized how much of her existence and her will to live were connected to that boy. Never realized, that is, until the whispered rumors around school had gotten to her, and began the final breaking of her life. Arnold had finally found someone to love, according to his best friend, Gerald.
At this thought, the teenager's shoulders shuddered again, and her weeping increased. Since the day in preschool when he had let her use his umbrella so she wouldn't get wet, Helga had loved Arnold. He had been the first to see through the masquerade, the first to get a glimpse into the real Helga Pataki. He had been the first to care about looking. Helga had gone through elementary school, middle school, and most of high school praying that one day he would realize how much she loved him. Her hopes had never died, because, although he had had a few childish crushes, like the one in fourth grade on Lila, Helga had seen that Arnold had never really given his heart to anyone. As long as he stayed free of romantic entanglements, Helga was able to clutch her dreams to herself as a lifeline. And as she grew older, that slowly became the only lifeline she had left.
Helga thought about all the lifelines she should have had, and smiled bitterly. By the time she reached middle school, her lifeline to Arnold and her lifeline to her best friend, Phoebe, were the only ones that still remained, holding her back from a plunge over the edge of life. Her parents, the people who were supposed to love her unconditionally, had basically forgotten her existence by the time she was four. Her mother was too absorbed by her alcohol, and her father barely took time away from his job to remember he had one daughter, much less two. Occasionally, both would look up from their separate lives and make a slight effort to care about her, but the allure of their old lifestyles always got the better of them both, and Helga was left to pick up the pieces every time. Since fifth grade, when her sister Olga got married and moved to Europe, they hadn't even bothered to try that much.
Helga's thoughts and her mood sunk lower as she contemplated her best friend. Although she and Phoebe still talked, since Phoebe had begun dating Gerald, the guy she had loved for almost as long as Helga had loved Arnold, Helga and Phoebe had stopped spending time together. Now they were just passing acquaintances, becoming people that flitted around the edges of life, not bothering to venture out to any depth. So, last year, her second to last lifeline had snapped. Helga had begun to feel as though she was climbing a cliff, and all the anchoring ropes had begun to snap and break. She had been left dangling from a cliff with only one rope holding her from a deadly plunge. Today, that last rope had broken. Helga now hung to the edge of the cliff face of life, clinging with the very tips of her fingers, and she was growing weary quickly.
Still crying, Helga stood up slowly and shuffled over to the bridge. The bridge where, for so many years, she stood and confessed her love of Arnold to the skies, the brook, anything that was there. She shuffled to the middle of the bridge and stared out into the slowly moving river, her tears splashing down her cheeks and landing in the water, making tiny little ripples, barely enough to the disturb the surface. She felt her heart crack into a million pieces, crumble into a small pile of dust, and be blown away by the wind. Her soul had shrunk into itself, leaving her cold, trembling, alone.
There is nothing there, Helga thought, sadly amazed. No one to hear me if I scream. No one to care if I die. In that moment of realization, the last vestiges of her world crumbled, leaving only the broken shell of a seventeen-year-old girl.
As her mind began to contemplate the best way to finally leave the lonely painful existence, Helga's ears picked up the faint traces of a beautiful song being picked out on an organ near the eastern edge of the park. Her tired feet began to move towards the music as a dying soul moves towards the beautiful, beckoning, saving light.
Helga, tears still trailing down her cheeks, approached a small, white church from which the music was floating away. Her feet hesitantly climbed the stairs to the church doors as her mind began to long for the comforting oblivion to which the music transported her. The door was standing open, and Helga found herself watching an older woman at the organ, singing a beautiful song, completely oblivious to all her surroundings. As the words penetrated the remains of Helga's frozen and lonely heart, she slipped into the church, collapsing silently into the last pew and placing her head in her hands. As she sat there, Helga allowed the words of the song wash over her.
*Draw me close to you,
Never let me go,
'Cause nothing else could take Your place,
To feel the warmth of Your embrace.
You are my desire,
No one else will do.
Help me find the way,
Bring me back to you.
You're all I want,
You're all I ever needed.
You're all I want,
Help me know you are near.*
When the woman stopped playing for a moment to change music, Helga lifted her head. Her eyes were instantly drawn to a little boy who had appeared next to her. He looked solemnly into her eyes, taking in the telltale redness and swollen face, and the small tears still sliding down Helga's face.
As the woman began to play again, the little boy whispered, "Are you an angel that fell from heaven?"
Helga started, surprise slowing the flow of tears to only an occasional trickle. "Why did you say that," Helga whispered back.
The boy looked slightly surprised at the question, but quietly responded, "Because my Nana," indicating the woman at the piano, "told me that angels are the most beautiful and joyful creatures in the world. When I saw your face, I knew you couldn't be a normal angel, because you aren't happy. So I thought you might have fallen from Heaven, and that is why you were sitting here crying, because you wanted to go home."
Helga, although surprised to get a compliment from a stranger, much less a small boy, was nonetheless instantly filled with the desire to go "home." She sniffled, and said, "I don't know where home is, not anymore. I used to, and then everything went wrong..." As Helga said these last words, her eyes began to overflow with tears again.
The little boy, looking slightly alarmed, began to hug Helga. "It's ok, I know where home is...my Nana says that our home is with Jesus, because He loves us, so that we never need to be scared when we are lost, or when someone else is lost, like my mom. My mom left two years ago. Nana said that God missed her so much, He had to bring her home. So I am not sad, 'cause I know I will see her again, because eventually we have to go home...to Heaven."
Helga stared at the boy as her brain tried to formulate what he was saying. Her broken mind and shattered heart longed for the faith and the hope that he was showing, because maybe it would be enough. Maybe it would be a lifeline that could save her. She brushed her hand over her cheek, and then gave the boy a hug. "Thank you so much. You will never know how much you helped me..." she whispered, trailing off as she lost the words to express her gratitude. The boy smiled, a sweet, innocent smile, and then got up and left Helga alone with her thoughts.
In the little copse of trees in the park, trees that, although it was spring, were still dead, a blonde-haired girl sat with her knees curled up to her chest and her head resting on them. The muffled sounds of her sobs could be heard only a short way away, and only by one who was trying to hear them over the sounds of life in the park. Her weeping sounded as though it had been drawn from her very soul, making a listener feel as though the weight of the world had been placed on the slender shoulders of the small teenager.
In the seventeen years she had been alive, never had Helga felt more alone than right now. With every passing second, the ragged hole in her heart that had been cut into and healed thousands of times before, grew worse and worse. She could feel her soul seeping out of her to pool into the grass, taking with it her every desire to go on living. Though she had always been alone, with a negligent father, alcoholic mother, and a spoiled, selfish, big sister, Helga had always had her dreams, her poetry, and her love for a football-headed boy named Arnold. She had never truly realized how much of her existence and her will to live were connected to that boy. Never realized, that is, until the whispered rumors around school had gotten to her, and began the final breaking of her life. Arnold had finally found someone to love, according to his best friend, Gerald.
At this thought, the teenager's shoulders shuddered again, and her weeping increased. Since the day in preschool when he had let her use his umbrella so she wouldn't get wet, Helga had loved Arnold. He had been the first to see through the masquerade, the first to get a glimpse into the real Helga Pataki. He had been the first to care about looking. Helga had gone through elementary school, middle school, and most of high school praying that one day he would realize how much she loved him. Her hopes had never died, because, although he had had a few childish crushes, like the one in fourth grade on Lila, Helga had seen that Arnold had never really given his heart to anyone. As long as he stayed free of romantic entanglements, Helga was able to clutch her dreams to herself as a lifeline. And as she grew older, that slowly became the only lifeline she had left.
Helga thought about all the lifelines she should have had, and smiled bitterly. By the time she reached middle school, her lifeline to Arnold and her lifeline to her best friend, Phoebe, were the only ones that still remained, holding her back from a plunge over the edge of life. Her parents, the people who were supposed to love her unconditionally, had basically forgotten her existence by the time she was four. Her mother was too absorbed by her alcohol, and her father barely took time away from his job to remember he had one daughter, much less two. Occasionally, both would look up from their separate lives and make a slight effort to care about her, but the allure of their old lifestyles always got the better of them both, and Helga was left to pick up the pieces every time. Since fifth grade, when her sister Olga got married and moved to Europe, they hadn't even bothered to try that much.
Helga's thoughts and her mood sunk lower as she contemplated her best friend. Although she and Phoebe still talked, since Phoebe had begun dating Gerald, the guy she had loved for almost as long as Helga had loved Arnold, Helga and Phoebe had stopped spending time together. Now they were just passing acquaintances, becoming people that flitted around the edges of life, not bothering to venture out to any depth. So, last year, her second to last lifeline had snapped. Helga had begun to feel as though she was climbing a cliff, and all the anchoring ropes had begun to snap and break. She had been left dangling from a cliff with only one rope holding her from a deadly plunge. Today, that last rope had broken. Helga now hung to the edge of the cliff face of life, clinging with the very tips of her fingers, and she was growing weary quickly.
Still crying, Helga stood up slowly and shuffled over to the bridge. The bridge where, for so many years, she stood and confessed her love of Arnold to the skies, the brook, anything that was there. She shuffled to the middle of the bridge and stared out into the slowly moving river, her tears splashing down her cheeks and landing in the water, making tiny little ripples, barely enough to the disturb the surface. She felt her heart crack into a million pieces, crumble into a small pile of dust, and be blown away by the wind. Her soul had shrunk into itself, leaving her cold, trembling, alone.
There is nothing there, Helga thought, sadly amazed. No one to hear me if I scream. No one to care if I die. In that moment of realization, the last vestiges of her world crumbled, leaving only the broken shell of a seventeen-year-old girl.
As her mind began to contemplate the best way to finally leave the lonely painful existence, Helga's ears picked up the faint traces of a beautiful song being picked out on an organ near the eastern edge of the park. Her tired feet began to move towards the music as a dying soul moves towards the beautiful, beckoning, saving light.
Helga, tears still trailing down her cheeks, approached a small, white church from which the music was floating away. Her feet hesitantly climbed the stairs to the church doors as her mind began to long for the comforting oblivion to which the music transported her. The door was standing open, and Helga found herself watching an older woman at the organ, singing a beautiful song, completely oblivious to all her surroundings. As the words penetrated the remains of Helga's frozen and lonely heart, she slipped into the church, collapsing silently into the last pew and placing her head in her hands. As she sat there, Helga allowed the words of the song wash over her.
*Draw me close to you,
Never let me go,
'Cause nothing else could take Your place,
To feel the warmth of Your embrace.
You are my desire,
No one else will do.
Help me find the way,
Bring me back to you.
You're all I want,
You're all I ever needed.
You're all I want,
Help me know you are near.*
When the woman stopped playing for a moment to change music, Helga lifted her head. Her eyes were instantly drawn to a little boy who had appeared next to her. He looked solemnly into her eyes, taking in the telltale redness and swollen face, and the small tears still sliding down Helga's face.
As the woman began to play again, the little boy whispered, "Are you an angel that fell from heaven?"
Helga started, surprise slowing the flow of tears to only an occasional trickle. "Why did you say that," Helga whispered back.
The boy looked slightly surprised at the question, but quietly responded, "Because my Nana," indicating the woman at the piano, "told me that angels are the most beautiful and joyful creatures in the world. When I saw your face, I knew you couldn't be a normal angel, because you aren't happy. So I thought you might have fallen from Heaven, and that is why you were sitting here crying, because you wanted to go home."
Helga, although surprised to get a compliment from a stranger, much less a small boy, was nonetheless instantly filled with the desire to go "home." She sniffled, and said, "I don't know where home is, not anymore. I used to, and then everything went wrong..." As Helga said these last words, her eyes began to overflow with tears again.
The little boy, looking slightly alarmed, began to hug Helga. "It's ok, I know where home is...my Nana says that our home is with Jesus, because He loves us, so that we never need to be scared when we are lost, or when someone else is lost, like my mom. My mom left two years ago. Nana said that God missed her so much, He had to bring her home. So I am not sad, 'cause I know I will see her again, because eventually we have to go home...to Heaven."
Helga stared at the boy as her brain tried to formulate what he was saying. Her broken mind and shattered heart longed for the faith and the hope that he was showing, because maybe it would be enough. Maybe it would be a lifeline that could save her. She brushed her hand over her cheek, and then gave the boy a hug. "Thank you so much. You will never know how much you helped me..." she whispered, trailing off as she lost the words to express her gratitude. The boy smiled, a sweet, innocent smile, and then got up and left Helga alone with her thoughts.