i watch you sleep your quiet slumber. i hear your soft sigh as you turn, rumpling the hello kitty bed covers.
this is another night i lie awake as you sleep on, unmindful of the tempest of the rest of the world.
nights like this i stay up, losing sleep over the near tomorrow that will surely come. hoping i have the right answers to the questions that will bubble forth and take form from your tiny mouth.
questions of why it is me raising you, when you are supposed to have a mother of your own.
questions of why you live away from your mother and brother, and how come your mother does not come at all to take you to school, to ask about your day, to play, to tickle you, to comb your hair after those chaotic interludes that happen every time you take a bath.
questions of why it is not your mother who kissed your hurt away when you scraped your knee.
i would still not know how to answer you. But know this: you are special, an angel God sent when i thought i was not ready for any responsibility. And answering that call, i chose to take you as part of my life when all those who are supposed to love and cherish you have shut their eyes and turned away from the biggest blessing that could have ever arrived in their lives.
for you see, if others have thought you are a burden, each day i am thankful for having you to enrich my life, for teaching me to be patient and gentle yet to be strong and brave, too. You have put enough fear in my heart to make me grow courageous in facing a tomorrow where you and i are together.
i cannot make the world free from any hurts you might feel nor any falls you might take. but all ways and all days, i will be here — to take your hand in mine. if need be, i will be here. that is a promise as well as a prayer.