One day, Soapy Smith and I visited a shelter for badly-treated women located in a deserted section of the city. No one smiled a greeting, and they appeared uninterested in Soapy. One little girl in particular moved like a wisp   in the background. The staff informed me that she had been there for over a month and had not spoken the entire time. Her mother said she had talked at one time but not in recent memory. I didn't want to imagine what could have happened to rob this little girl of the natural curiosity and enthusiasm so natural to childhood. Spreading a blanket on the floor, I sat down and put Soapy on the blanket. As the silent child circled past me, I told the group that Soapy would come to talk to them if they sat on his blanket. Several children did this, including the silent girl. She sat rigidly at the edge of the blanket, legs held stiffly out straight in front of her. She was staring hard at Soapy. It appeared that he kept making eye contact with her. She didn't reach out to him or encourage him in any way. Rather she sat tensely, just staring. Finally Soapy came to a stop about two inches from her. He quietly reached out and laid his chin on her knee. I was astonished. While a common behavior for dogs, this is not a behavior exhibited by rabbits, especially not by this rabbit. The child did not reach out to touch Soapy. Instead, she slowly leaned toward him. When her face was within inches of his, she carefully reached out and circled him with her arms. So softly that no one in the room could hear, she began to talk. Folded around the rabbit, she pillowed her head on his back and whispered to him. Soapy remained motionless. I looked up and noticed that the shelter workers had stopped talking. Every adult in the room froze in place. Time seemed to have stopped. The little girl reappeared when I was preparing to leave. She reached her hands out and looked me directly in the eye. I held Soapy out to her. She wrapped him in a big hug and pressed her face against him. Suspended   from my hands as he was, I was concerned that he would begin to struggle. Instead he reached out his head again and laid it on the child's shoulder. His breathing slowed and he closed his eyes. As quickly as it happened, the little girl released her hug and stepped back. As she turned away, I thought I saw the beginnings of a faint smile. The rabbit in his cloud of soft, warm fur had touched something deep in the child -- something that had died from too much hard experience. Soapy's innocence and trust appeared to arouse those very same qualities in the little girl. It seems the language of the heart is simple after all. The little girl didn't speak any word because   _  .
she liked staying silent and still she had no friends to talk with she had too much hard experience the people in the shelter all kept silent