To Molly, who turned four

Dear Molly,

Tonight I looked at you twirling in your new princess dress, its hooped skirt circling, your blond hair flying. You are so beautiful.

But you are not just beautiful on the outside, but also deep down in the recesses of your character, where it matters most. You are quick to compliment, quick to comfort and lightning-quick to forgive. No matter the offense, you are ready to pick up and carry on, loving and laughing.

There is something about you, Molly, that seems wild to your Dad and me. Maybe it's your fearless physicality, climbing the ropes at gymnastics and bending your knees, lifting your elbows and flying round and round the mat on sturdy legs so much faster than the others. But it seems like your heart is primed for adventure, that you might be the daughter that calls home from the Peace Corps, dropping in at Christmas, to light up every room.

But right now, I am content that you are here with us, sleeping in your princess dress, with a superhero cape wrapped around your shoulders. Your damp curls smelly slightly sweaty and I lie next to you and try to inhale your scent, imprint it on my heart to take out later. Only I know that I can't, I can only take these precious moments in time and lay them at the feet of my Savior. He has given you to me for a time, Molly, but you are ultimately His. But He knows that your mother's heart is fragile and it's a hard lesson for me to learn, that you belong to Him. That's the thing about Him, Molly, that I hope I will teach you, that you can trust Him. Even with your most precious things, because He loves them even more.

You are a most precious and beloved thing in my life, Molly.

I love you,
Mommy