She was three..and then five and then seven years old. She liked to romp in the rain and stomp in the mud. Her backyard was her world and her fantasy playground. She climbed trees and built imaginary forts and castles. She skinned her knees and giggled.
She was smart..she was curious...she was oh-so-very proud. There was nothing in this world that could stop her.
She was ten..and then twelve..and then fifteen years old. She learned that nice girls no longer do these kinds of things...these things that made her laugh out loud. These things that made her happy. She began to believe that not everything - as she'd once thought to be - was possible. Not for a girl like her. That there might be people and things in this would that would stop her.
She was twenty..and thirty..and forty years old. She now could watch from a distance.
Her girls who are now sixteen and eighteen..and twenty years old. Who trust and believe and know-in-their-hearts....only that they are awesome!