Indigo Girl

Indigo Girl

At the age of three, Angela became aware. 

She was Indigo.

New-Agers believe that children born with an indigo-colored aura are different from other children in very special ways.  They are thought to be the next step in human evolution.  To be indigo is to be in possession of special abilities such as extreme empathy, sensitivity or even the ability to read minds.

At the age of three, Angela became aware.  A moment later, she detached.



"I see that you two have been looking to adopt for some time," said Jane Hartman, smiling thinly behind horn-rimmed glasses.  Her hair was pulled back into a tight bun giving her a rather strict appearance.  She was the chief administrator at the county orphanage. 

Officially, it was her job to match needy children with deserving parents.  Officially.

Ms. Hartman was well aware of how the month had gone so far.  There had been several interviews but no takers.  She needed to move some of these kids or the county would start to give her a hard time.  She wanted this one.  She reached into a cabinet and pulled out a dozen or so files.

"We have some very deserving children with us here.  I am sure we can help you find the right child.  Let's look through some photographs.  I am sure you will be very pleased," she said in a way that made Samantha wince.  It felt like she was being sold a used car.

Forcing a smile, Samantha reached over and took Mike's hand in her own.  She could feel this woman's desperation.  Clearly, she had no interest in helping them find a child that was perfect for them.  What she really wanted was a sale; to move the merchandise


Outside, little Angela walked out onto the facility's playground. Her worn jacket and cap kept her warm against the morning chill.  She tried to make herself invisible to the other children playing in the large yard.  She kept her head down with her eyes on the ground shifting her focus from one pebble to the next.  She was headed to her safe place.

A sudden squeal from the far side of the yard caused her to glance up briefly - big mistake.

As Angela looked up at the other kids, her mind became flooded with pictures, voices, sounds and emotions.  She closed her eyes hard and tried to push back. These thoughts did not belong to her! It was too much!  She was just a little girl - too young, too inexperienced.

Angela's existence rapidly became a confusion of consciousness where she could not separate herself from the reality of others.  Breathing became difficult.  It felt as if she were drowning right there in the middle of the playground.

Her safe place was only steps away.  Keeping her eyes closed, she stumbled forward, arms outstretched as she felt for the comfort of the steel structure.

Suddenly she was there.  She was safe.

She quickly settled down behind the large metal plate.  This was her shield against the outside world.  There was a hole in it through which she could safely watch the other children without fear. 

The plate was part of a little-used play structure that has been dumped at the edge of the playground years ago.  Now, Angela was the only one that went there.



The interview had been going on for some time. 

"Maybe you are setting the bar a little too high," suggested a visibly impatient Ms. Hartman.  Her hair had become a little frazzled.  Her smile was more forced with every child the couple passed up.

Samantha and Mike had reviewed several of the files but had not come across any child that seemed to fit.  They both agreed beforehand that they would not simply choose a child.  Something would have to click; no room for uncertainty.

"Can we break for a few minutes?  I need to clear my head.  Maybe we could walk around a little," Samantha said to the chief administrator.

"Why certainly," said Ms. Hartman.  She was becoming worried that this fish was about to get off of the hook.  The couple had seemed so certain about adopting when they first came in.  Now, after an hour of looking, they seemed less inclined.  Maybe she could steer them out to the playground.  Often, direct contact with the children would bring out the inner, hesitant, parent.

"Let's take a look at the facilities and then you can take a walk out amongst the children while they play."

"That would be great," Samantha said taking Mike's hand.  They followed Ms. Hartman out of the room.


Angela's breathing was finally starting to return to normal. After what had seemed an eternity, her mind had quieted.  It just wasn't fair.  All of the other children were normal.  They could play with each other and laugh and run and sing. 

Her life was absent those things.  She knew she was different.  That in itself was part of the difference.  She could see into herself as easily as she could see into others.  Her problem was one of control.  She could not throttle down the input.  She didn't know how. The world was simply asking too much from someone so small.

Fortunately, she had found her safe place.  She rolled over to her knees and peered through the hole in the metal wall.  From here, she could watch the world in safety.  From here she could participate, if only in her imagination.


"This is the dining area.  We feed nearly one-hundred children here every day," the comments sounded as if they came from a lifeless looped recording. Ms. Hartman saw little value in tours.  Tours didn't move the kids. She hoped to get the couple quickly to the playground where the kids would try to sell themselves.

Samantha walked over to the windows that opened out over the playground.  With Mike at her side, she allowed her gaze to meander across the grounds.  There was a game of kickball going on directly below the window.  Several children were swinging from the monkey bars.  A cluster of little girls could be seen giggling and pointing over to the left.

Off to the far right, a splash of red caught her eye.  Over in a dilapidated old metal play structure, a young child appeared to be hiding.

"Who is that over there?" Samantha asked.  She felt an invisible tug of attraction.

Ms. Hartman walked over to see where Samantha was pointing.  Even before she got to the window, she knew what she would find.  Only one child ever went to that part of the playground. 

Little Angela had been with the orphanage almost since the day she was born.  Over the years, prospective parents would show an interest in her only to change their minds.  There was something about the little girl that was not natural.  Ms. Hartman thought it was her eyes.  Angela almost never made eye contact, but when she did, her gaze was penetrating. It was as if she could see right into you.

There was also the fact that she never talked.  One day, when she was very young, Angela simply stopped talking.  No amount of coaxing could make her speak. 

Not exactly what new parents wanted.

"That is Angela.  I'm afraid she is not what you are looking for," Ms. Hartman said using a tone that seemed to indicate the subject was closed.

Samantha would not let it drop that quickly.  "Why do you say that?"

This is a waste of time thought the director.

With an audible exhale, Ms. Hartman said "She is a bit of a problem child.  She is extremely asocial and has not spoken a word for more than three years."

"Autism?" asked Samantha.

"No. We have had her examined and the doctors can find nothing wrong with her.  It's as if she's voluntarily withdrawn from the world."

There was something about that girl that Samantha couldn't shake.  She was certain there was more there than meets the eye.  She probed a little more.

"Do you know anything about her parents?"

"She showed up at a police station in a basket when she was just days old.  We never discovered who her real parents are.  In the last six years she has been put in several foster homes only to be returned, sometimes after only a few hours."

"Why is that?" Samantha asked.

"There have been a variety of reasons given but they all boil down to some variation of her being a strange little girl."

The Chief Administrator was ready to move on.  Placing a child only to have that child returned was considered a black eye.  Angela had caused enough black eyes for her in the past.  She was a lost cause.

"Let's take a look at the rest of the facility," she said leading the couple away from the window.


As Angela peeked through the hole, she imagined herself out there playing jump rope with the other girls.  It looked like such fun.  Her eyes shifted over to the group of girls huddled together near the swings.  It would be such fun to be part of their laughter.  To be part of anything...

Wait! What was that?

Something new had just entered Angela's reality.  She could sense it without quite knowing what it was.  This was something different.  She did not feel the need to recoil and hide.  She felt feelings of clarity and guidance.  This was different.  This was...hope! 

She strained to learn more.


"Out here on the playground, the children get exercise and learn to interact with each other.  Why don't the two of you walk around?  Feel free to speak with any of the children you wish."

Samantha and Mike looked around them with a degree of sadness.  Their emergence from the building brought a definite slowing down of the children's' activity.  The children all knew what strangers on the playground meant.  They were looking to adopt!  Every child suddenly became hopeful.  "Let me be the one!" was the common thought.

The young couple walked slowly amongst the children.  They smiled at each of the expectant faces that looked up to them with unhidden hope in their eyes. 

After making a circuit of the yard, they headed back to the building's entrance where Ms. Hartman waited for them.  Samantha felt her heart grow heavy.  So many needy children; she wished she could take them all with her and yet, none of them stood out as "the one."  There had been no spark.

"Let's go back upstairs and take a look at some more of the children's files," the director said. She could see the disappointment in their eyes. 

"Wait!" Samantha said just before they headed into the building.  There was that tug again.

She turned slowly and looked across the yard to where she had seen the little girl named Angela.  There was that little splotch of red showing through the hole in the barrel.  Angela and Samantha made eye contact for a brief moment.

It was enough.

Leaving Mike and the director behind, Samantha walked straight over to where Angela was hiding. 

Angela saw her approach.  Understanding broke across her consciousness as she watched the woman coming closer.  Samantha had to circle around the metal wall before taking a seat on the ground directly in front of the wide-eyed little girl.

The two sat there for a minute without saying a word.  They didn't have to. 

Samantha reached out with her hand to gently touch the cheek of the little girl.  She looked like an angel.

"Hi.  My name is Samantha.  I am going to be your mommy," she said quite simply.

"I know," Angela replied smiling her first smile in a long time.

The two indigo girls, mother and daughter - teacher and pupil, stood together and walked hand in hand into their new world.