(07/13/00)["Sad Lydia."] I am in a house. Children are running around. A boy (toddler) crawls up on me and I carry him around on my shoulder, like a kitten. He snuggles in and falls asleep. I walk outside. I have decided to carry him to my dr. appointment. We walk to the corner and I see an old black convertible car, maybe 1920's or 30's. Lydia is lying in it. I stop and ask her to go with me so we can hang out and chat. She agrees but starts talking without getting up. At first I am annoyed because I have some errands to run and it is scheduled to do the appointment. But I soon realize Lydia is very sad. She needs to talk about her feelings. I am also starting to enjoy the closeness we are feeling with her opening up about her feelings. I now have a small kitten (Bootsie) in my hand as it plays. The boy is asleep on my shoulder and Charla is playing around us with other children. I ask Charla to take the kitten back into the house to protect it from being so close to the busy street. She does and now Lydia and I are alone, except for the sleeping boy. She shows me a journal she is keeping. I am intrigued and say I would love to read her journal. I feel happy she is confiding in me.