My Emma's legs are growing stronger and longer on a daily basis, with bruises up and down that prove she plays hard and can hold her own with any girl or boy on the playground. She's growing and changing so much it's at the point where I just need to bottle some of her up and keep her tight by my side. Tonight as we cuddled I made her promise that she would always let me snuggle her, even when she's too old. "Of course!"she giggled, unable to imagine it any other way.
She doesn't see how she's growing into a valiant young lady.
She's been trying to whistle for a while now. She said she was going to try every morning and night until she got it and tonight it finally happened. She was so proud and informed us that she was to be called whistle-girl! for the rest of the night. An hour after she went to bed I could still hear the airy, high-pitched whistle coming from her room. I love how hard she worked at it and her pride in the accomplishment.
She doesn't see the compassion growing in her heart.
Last week she was so excited because her teacher's daughter was having a baby. In the days before the baby's anticipated arrival, she would talk excitedly about him, by name. She was sharing in the joy of her teacher. But, she also learned the agony of sharing in someone's pain. The baby passed away soon after birth. I didn't know whether to tell her, but when she started talking about him again I just prayed that God would help me find the words.
As I told her the baby was with Jesus, she got angry with me. She couldn't understand why I would say such a thing. She kept telling me not to say something like that. To stop teasing her. She said babies weren't supposed to die. She kept repeating it, "No Mommy, babies aren't supposed to die." And how right she was.
"They're not," I told her, "It's so very sad but someday, someday God will make all the sad things come untrue. I promise." She bawled as I stopped the car and scooped her up.
She doesn't see the wisdom taking root in her soul.
As I picked her up from school yesterday she was unusually quiet, and as I bent down to ask her why she burst into tears. No one wanted to play with her. Now, when I dropped her off in the morning two little girls ran up screeching her name. I know the girl has friends but in that moment she felt alone and unloved. So we prayed together as I would do with my mom when I was hurting over friendship as a little girl. As we continued down the road she said, "They told us about the sad thing today, Mommy."
"Were you okay?"
"Did you cry?"
It seemed like too much sadness in one day for a 4-year old, but I had little to offer.
"You know how much I love you, baby?"
"You know how much daddy loves you?"
"You know how much God loves you?"
"Even more than you and daddy. Look, goats!"
And then my four year old was a four year old again.
She doesn't see how proud she makes this momma's heart. She doesn't see the lessons she teaches me on a daily basis and how I would jump through flames for her and her brother. She doesn't see how rich she makes our lives and how her invitation to dance with her daddy melts my heart every time. There's so much she doesn't see now, but someday I hope she thinks back on these days and laughs that precious laugh knowing how much joy she's brought to our world.
One day she'll know.
Because one day she'll see all the unique, beloved beauty she is in the face of her own little girl.