“When I grow up, I’m going to be a writer like you,” you say, peering seriously over your breakfast cereal.
I believe you. At just turned five, you have a gift.
To say you are a wordsmith would be an understatement. Your little snippets of prose are far beyond your years. You’ll grasp your two hands together, with wide eyes and begin.
The seashells in the water
are dripping so brightly
they don't know where they are going
“I might actually be a poemer when I grow up,” you boast with humble certainty. “A poet?” I correct. “Yes,” you say, cavalierly, undeterred by semantics.
I write my letters
and send them to patients
so they will get better
soon we know
soon we know
I sit here and type as you say your poems. Word for word.
the poppies grow
where the snow is
the snow is very shining
who will bring them home safe?
who will love them?
My fingers can hardly keep up with your wit, your wonder.
come out when it's winter too
there is love in the air
falling down in the snow
Nature seems to be your biggest inspiration. Yesterday, you told me, “Sometimes when I open up a book, I see birds and I think of a poem that starts, ‘When the birds fly...'”
But you also draw strength and courage from your steady relationship with God. His presence is evident in your tender heart. You often pray for the plight of people around the world.
at night night, we see
that He is still there
we don't forget that He
loves us no matter what
most of all, he loves us
he never stops loving you
no matter what
You’re right. HE never will stop loving you. And neither will we.
- Favorite Food: “Can I say my favorite dessert? Cheesecake!” Also – mangos and noodles
- Favorite Book: “the American Girl chapter books…actually all of them!“
- Favorite Movie: “Pippi Longstocking” and “Frozen“
- Dream Job: Depends on the day – writer, doctor, librarian