To my dearest god-daughter, Patricia,
Happy birthday, puknooots! You’ve just turned 7 and I can’t help but wonder where the years went by. In those 7 years, you’ve brought our family such wonderful joy what with your witty comebacks and infectious laughter.
Now, although you’re still a kid, I know that YOU know something’s different about you. Different is not bad, different is just that…different. You might wonder why you can’t run around the playground with your classmates and friends and, especially, why you can’t dash away from those bullies that try to crush your high spirits. There are things in life that can’t be fully explained in terms of ‘why’; ‘how’ maybe…but that has little meaning for you.
I know you keep on looking up, trying to figure out how to reach up and grab whatever magic’s available in your sight.
It’s hard, I know, but there will always be people, your family, friends and those with kind hearts, to help you even grasp just a thread of that magic.
And although you were the one to take hold of that magic; know that there will be times when it slips out of your hand and into others’. Life won’t always be like that. You’ll always have your chance. You’ve always been a fighter.
We’ll find a way to finally get you up and walking…running even. But for now, my dearest Tricia, please look up, not with anger or frustration or sadness; but with hope, faith and trust that one day, you’ll be chasing us around the house, demanding an “allowance” to buy new erasers for your collection.
I love you, little Tinkerbell!