I was excited to have this opportunity to spend time playing with Madison -- an eight year old child who is the niece of my good friend. She and her family (Mom, Dad and older sister) were spending the weekend with us so her parents could attend a class reunion in the Bay Area. Madison was bringing all her favorite toys (Barbie dolls mostly!) for us to play with. Just recently I converted a small room in my house into a space where I could do sandtray work. I had just received my two sandtrays and had lined bookshelves with small figurines. There seemed to be plenty of "stuff" to play with!! When Madison arrived at my home, I was on the phone. She ran in, wrapped her little arms around my legs as a hug and ran quickly out of the room. A short time later, I found Madison sitting outside my "playroom" waiting for me to go in with her. As we entered, I watched her look around at all the figures and could sense her taking everything in. She sat down on the floor and started handling the small furniture objects (beds, couches, chairs, lamps, etc.). Madison proceeded to put a small lamp on each piece of the furniture and announced, "Let's burn the house down!" She started to become a bit more excited and picked up a toilet and a small doll. Her next move was to stuff the head of the small doll down the toilet as she called out to her sister, "Emily help me, I'm stuck in the toilet!" Her behavior seemed to escalate to where she was now talking about farting on my head and she began hurling herself at me. It was only a matter of moments in which she seemed to become quite manic and this wasn't even our play session together! Suddenly she ran out of the room and then reappeared saying she was starving.

In the kitchen, I offered Madison a banana which she took and I returned to the playroom and was talking to her sister, Emily. When I looked around for Madison, I found her draped over her mother's lap being stroked and soothed ... just what I wanted for myself after that episode!

I attended an Ethics workshop the next day and upon my return home, Madison ran to greet me, grabbing my hand saying, "Maria, Maria come see what I did!!" I held my breath because I couldn't imagine what it could be and, at the same time, I knew to expect almost anything. She brought me to the sandtray and showed me her creation. Madison had completely buried a man, lying on a hammock attached to two palm trees, in the sand. Barely visible were the tops of the palm trees. I responded, "Oh my goodness!" and that seemed to be that. I realized that Madison didn't need anything more than to just show me.

Later that night, Madison came upstairs and asked me if she could "make something in the sand" and I said, "of course". We went downstairs and I spent the next 30 minutes watching Madison "flatten" the sand in the tray. Although Madison told me the importance of this "flattening process", to my amazement, she was doing everything except flattening the sand. Madison had her arms immersed in the sand and created huge ripples and valleys. This seemed to go on forever. Madison asked if I had a stick or something she could use to "flatten the sand perfectly".  I looked around and came up with a ruler-like object which worked quite well. Finally Madison was ready to begin and our short conversation went something like this:

    Madison:    "I don't know what story to do."
    Maria:        "Well, let's just wait a minute or two."
    Madison:    "I'm going to think of something. Should it be an adventure or...? I'll do a sort of funny kind, one that will make
                      you laugh but not dangerous like last night. Things won't go flying. I'll be careful with these."

And she was right. I could feel that the energy was much different than the night before. Madison chose the figures which told the story of Aladdin and she tried to situate all the characters on the magic carpet simultaneously. Her story was a story about perfection - how perfect the princess had to be and how important it was that they all lived "happily ever after" because that was the only way it could be perfect. Her story had voices which fit each of the characters as well as some songs. I felt privileged and very touched as I watched this little person unfold the story she carries within herself. Madison told me that she was finished and wanted me to take a photo of her with her "creation", which we did. We turned off the lights in the room and headed upstairs for bed when Madison turned to me and asked, "Maria, can we go back inside that room? I need to do something". I was surprised at her request but said "yes" without hesitating. As I turned on the lights to the room Madison ran over to her first tray with the palm trees and said, "I have to un-bury the man because now he can breathe." I nodded and understood.

It is the experience of the process that heals.