My daughter, my friend.
A gift from above sent in a package so tiny, so small.
Some want to say, “this is not by design, but only an accident caused by chance.” But as we examined her fingers and toes, marveled at perfectly formed little ears and a nose, we knew, we knew! This surely had to be the work of an Artist, crafted with care. Only He could design such an incredible gift.
We cuddled and rocked her and held her so close — did we notice the shadow which lingered so near? Might we have banished it, driven it far from this daughter, so dear?
An infectious grin, a giggle or two and a strong-willed spirit, all wrapped in a package so small; wouldn’t be long ‘til she skipped off for her first day of school.
Balance beams and bars, swimming and diving—high-dive, no problem for this child of ours. Streaking down a basketball court, spiking a volley over the net — we beamed with pride and wondered, “Is there anything this girl can’t do?” Yet, an unseen shadow hovered still near, drawing closer to this one so dear.
Before we could turn, there she stood at the door of the church, a vision in white, a grown-up woman with a handsome groom waiting to take her hand and make her his wife. A happy day, a rainy night, they rode off together to begin a new life. And no one noticed the shadow that lingered still near.
A cough developed, just wouldn’t be stopped. The oncologist’s word gave substance to the shadow and dreams began to crumble. Nothing we could say or do would take away the pain nor dissolve the tumors that threatened our dear daughter’s life. This was the walk she was given to walk, but never alone. She had a husband who stood faithfully by, terrified too, but stood like a rock. Prayers of many rose like a cloud, storming heaven on her behalf.
She was out of our hands but firmly in His. We watched and we prayed, and yes, we cried as this indomitable spirit, wrapped in a frail little package, never, never gave up, held by her Father Who said, “I have a plan for this life.”
Adversity was conquered, death was cheated, though a difficult road. Now that fighting spirit and strong will to live offers hope and encouragement to all that she meets.
And gifts keep coming—birthdays and Christmases, Mother’s Day, too — all carefully chosen and wrapped, including the beautiful cards expressing her love. But the best gifts of all are hearing her laugh, the cheery “hi mom” over the phone and the hugs when we meet.
I am a mom truly blest with this gift from above, my daughter, my friend.
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