Megan - Week 4 - A Line of Questions

I’ve been questioned by an FBI agent while hooked up to a polygraph machine, yet the most scrutiny that I’ve ever experienced was that of a 7-year-old girl this past Friday. (The polygraph machine experience is another story, for another time.)

At Shafer Elementary’s Holiday Night, there were games, crafts, snacks, and pictures with the Grinch and Cindy Lou Who. Because my mom is a teacher at Shafer, I was given the lucky role of Cindy Lou.

I was hesitant at first but ended up having a great time interacting with the kids; what a joy it is to see Christmas through the eyes of a child, even if just a glimpse.

After smiling for a picture, one little girl looked me straight in the eyes and asked, “Are you really Cindy Lou Who?”

I smiled. In my best Cindy Lou Who voice, I said, “Why, of course! I live in Whoville, which is a great while from Nazareth. Have you ever been to Whoville before?”

On a mission, she preceded to question me on everything from my parents’ names to why I was so tall. When I passed the test, she gave me a look of suspicion before saying, “Nice you meet you, Cindy Lou.”

Since Friday, I’ve thought about that little girl a couple of times, and I’ve come to a conclusion: I think she knew that I wasn’t Cindy Lou before she spoke a word to me. I believe that she questioned me not to find out if I was real (she already knew I wasn’t), but to try to convince herself that I was, despite her better judgment.


For the little girl to believe that I was the real Cindy Lou would be naive. But if she could convince her self that I was, her world could stay a little more magical. A little more beautiful. So she convinced herself, maybe not because her beliefs about the world could change reality but because perhaps she doesn’t want to live in reality all of the time.