loved

I look down at my child's face
and her eyes do not go up but the corners of her mouth do
simply because she knows I am looking at her.

Life for her is so simple.
All she knows is that she is loved.
She is smiled at, played with, laughed at,
read to, held, comforted, kissed,
fed, snuggled, loved.
Hair stroked, bum wiped, rolls bathed,
body warmed by clothing hand-picked hand-made,
carefully swung into the air,
steadily caught, eyes wide, belly full of laughter,

loved.

Someday she will worry about what her hair looks likes when she leaves the house.
Someday she will make a foolish mistake and will feel the sting of someone's anger.
Someday she will make a few choices to please others.
Someday she will feel judged for her beliefs.
Someday she will struggle to find an identity.
And there will be a few days when she will be exhausted and overwhelmed and drained
and feel like she hasn't tried hard enough
and she might call herself a failure.

But thank God those days will wait.

And I hope in the midst of those waiting days
she remembers the first thing she knew: that she is loved.
Loved as much as anyone can be loved.
Loved, always loved.