My Birthday Girl

I met her for the first time when she was five.

I remember what she was wearing, how she was

acting, and what we did.

I remember the night that the case worker called to tell

us about her. She was considered "difficult",

a "challenge", "behavioral".

Words used to describe a child that had been hurt,

betrayed, lied to by adults.

Words to describe someone afraid to love.

I don't know how it feels to hold a baby you've just given

birth to. I do know how it feels to look into the eyes of a child

who has lost hope but dares to hope you'll become a family.

The moment I met her, I loved her. I wanted to get

to know her, care for her, protect her.

I wanted to be her mother.

For four years, I have had the privilege of watching

my daughter grow. I have seen her grow from a

hurt, angry, aggressive child into a kind,

compassionate, loving young lady.

I've held her as she's cried for a family that couldn't

care for her. I've shared the story of how

we came to care for her.

I love her more each and every day. I love her more than

I love my own life.

I would do anything for her.

I look forward to watching her grow into the beautiful

woman of God that she is becoming.

I am thankful that out of all the women in this world,

God chose me to be her Mom. What a gift.

What a responsibility. What a blessing.

Being her Mom is a job that I love,

cherish, and enjoy.

Happy Birthday sweet Doodle Bug. You

have brought me so much joy.