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When I first met Felix, he looked me straight in the eye and said, ‘I've been waiting for you!” His eyes were dark brown, almost black, and large as moons. He took me in with his focused gaze, head tilting forward as if awaiting a particular reply. I was instantly charmed by his unabashed scrutiny. “Hi there,” I said. “I've been waiting to meet you too, Felix.” He smiled slightly and continued his expectant stare.
During our first session, I sat in a small chair in our play therapy room where we would meet once a week for the following two years. In that first session, eager to continue our initial exchange, he pointed to his miniature blue trousers. “Look how small my pants are!” I agreed that they were in fact some of the smallest trousers I had ever seen. I sensed, however, that more importantly he was implying a recent growth spurt: The trousers were almost too small for him, with tiny black socks exposed beneath the cuffs. He smiled after I affirmed this implicit physical growth and proceeded to tell me that he was Jewish. He stated by way of confirmation, “I can only eat kosher marshmallows.”
He then moved toward a small sand station that had caught his attention. I watched him roam our new room, taking note of the various toy animals that lined the shelves, the containers of multicolored Play-do, board games and puzzles, and some books that were quickly collecting a thick coat of gray dust. Carefully he selected an armful of animals and began arranging them in the sand.
Felix had been referred to me by his classroom teacher, a formidable woman with several decades of teaching experience.