A Little Girl... A Story in Diary Entries

"Would that I knew what goes on in her little head!!"
A story in diary entries.... we publish it in three installments...

August 5..

I am bewildered and troubled.. how does this happen to me.. I, the experienced young man who has known life and tested its places of strength and of weakness?

How does this little girl enter my life and turn it upside down? I am afraid of myself, afraid of her, for I love her to madness, and she—this child of fifteen springs—grasps no meaning in my love, nor do I see in her eyes any trace of understanding. She looks at me, while I hint to her of my love, with two eyes full of innocent expression; and when I tell her how beautiful she is, trying to draw her attention to my love, she thinks I am mocking her, so she flares up and strikes me with both her small hands, and then her lips part in a foolish smile that makes my passion blaze all the more.. And I find this outburst sweet, so I provoke her anger on purpose, to see her face dyed the color of blood, and her eyes looking at me in protest against my supposed mockery.

A month ago it occurred to me to call her over and to speak with her in a serious tone. And when I had thought long to myself, I knew that this was impossible, since this child will not understand what I would say to her, and perhaps she would weep from the surprise, or laugh until she fainted.. and in either case I would not know what my position would be!!

I know many girls of fifteen, but they all understand these things, and speak of them with desire and longing; as for her, not a trace of expression appears on her face when I speak to her about this.

I wonder—if I spoke to her now, would she understand me? Or would she look at me open-mouthed, and then that same foolish smile would draw itself on her lips, and she would go back to striking me again with both her hands? I am bewildered and troubled... I shall speak to her tomorrow whatever it costs me and whatever the consequences.

August 6

When we went to the sea today, her mother and my mother busied themselves with some silly conversation as they always do, and I asked her to race with me along the shore as we always do. It was my intention to broach the matter with her whatever happened, so when we had gone a little way off I pretended to be tired and threw myself down on the ground... And she came toward me quickly, astonished:
— What is the matter with you? Why don't we finish the race?
— I am tired, run by yourself.
— And with whom shall I race, with my shadow? Ugh! Why, for heaven's sake! Get up.
— I told you I cannot now, I am tired; come and sit a little.
— On condition that you do not try to rile me and mock me.
— I shall not mock, I promise you that.

And when she sat down I did not know how to begin the talk. Should I tell her outright? Or should I ask her whether she herself is in love? I feared that if I did, the surprise would seize her and she would leave me and walk away.

And it occurred to me to speak to her about next year; I told her that I would be going to Europe to obtain my doctorate.
She told me that she wished she could go to Europe now!
— Why now?
— No, I do not mean that; I mean that I wish to go to Europe at any time, and I wish it might be soon.
And my devil came back to me, so I did not keep my promise, and I said to her:
— Before you go you must cut off your braids, so that you will not look ten years old to whoever sees you.

And she looked at me furiously, then struck me with her hands upon my shoulder, so I pulled her braids and looked into her face—ah, if only she had understood that look. But she did not understand it.. she slipped away from me and went back to her mother, and I went back behind her... and I told her nothing.

She is ignorant, foolish, and very young, there is no doubt of that; but what is likewise beyond doubt is that I am a fool—for how do I let the chance pass me by without speaking to her, how do I let her escape from me without telling her what I want?

I shall be patient until tomorrow, or for other days, until I meet with her and speak to her.

August 7

Today I was looking through the photograph "album" that belongs to my sister, and I found in it pictures from the schooldays, when my sister was at the end of her secondary stage and Samia—my beloved child—was in the primary classes. Samia has not grown a bit past the age of ten.. in her play and her behavior; rather she has remained as I have always known her, a little beauty with no concern but play and "mischief," and everything she does that is worth any effort is her studying before the examinations. But apart from that, I do not feel that she has any interest in the serious sides of life. Love, for instance, she does not know and has not tasted, for she is ignorant of its meaning; she does not understand how people love, and how they suffer in their love.. she does not understand that I love her with all my heart, and even if I told her she would not believe me, and would pay no attention.

Would that I could feel toward her the same feeling I had last year. My feeling was the feeling of a grown young man toward a child: I would play with her, and amuse myself watching her as she skipped, or raced along the shore with the children of the quarter..

She was always the winner.. and I was the judge among them, so when she was the first to reach me I would pull her braids and lift her up between my hands, and she would try to wriggle free of me, and when she could not she would give me a sound kicking with her two little feet..

.. Perhaps that time was the turning point in my life, for I began to feel a pleasure in pulling her braids and in receiving her kicks. I began to wait for three o'clock every afternoon, to go to the sea and amuse myself with her and with her little friends, until this became a part of my daily program that I hated to break even once.

And when the summer ended I felt an enormous emptiness, and a great longing for the sea and for playing on the shore. And little by little I discovered in myself how much I love her and how much this beautiful child means to me.

I was a fool yesterday, but tomorrow I shall broach the matter with her, and I shall see how far my attempts will succeed.

August 25

Here are days that have passed, and I have written nothing in my diary, for I have grown oblivious of everything in my attempts to draw this child to me and to make her realize the truth of my feelings. But she would give me no chance to complete them, for whenever I called her and put on a serious air with her, she would slip out of my hand and run laughing to where her mother sat with my mother..

And she has noticed in me an absentmindedness she was not used to from me, perhaps because I was always laughing with her and mocking her... So yesterday she said a word to me from which I learned that the little one understands more than appears of her.. understands what goes on in hearts.. For yesterday she looked at me mockingly and said: "I should like to thank her from the depths of my heart, that girl who has taken away your mind and distracted you from mocking me." And she darted away laughing.. leaving me with stunned glances and open mouth.. And doubt has begun to torment me, so I have gone back to thinking to myself: does she know that I love her? Or does she not know it? Is this cursed girl mocking me while she knows the truth of my feeling?! Perhaps she thinks that I love some distant girl, and mocks me on account of that feeling, which her simple perceptions consider a trifling thing.. and so she expresses her mockery with that innocent, indifferent laugh?!

Would that I knew what goes on in her little head—then I would count myself a happy man.