Her Gift

It is a story of truth,
From not yesterday
But a chapter of life,
Now seemed far away

My 4 year old daughter was taken to shop,
Perhaps for my birthday, that part I’ve forgot
But that is a detail to leave to the side,
It’s not of importance, and soon, you will know why

At home I was busy with newborn twins,
Life seemed not to end when each day would begin
I thought I could handle the days even though,
Sometimes it was hectic, but I managed the flow

Inside I was harrowed, sometimes filled with knots
Thought I could hide my fatigue, I guess not
I could not fool my child, even when I’d think,
I was in control, when in fact on the brink

I remember her placing, this tiny gift in my hand,
A package, wrapped alone and quite well
Inside was her heart, her beauty, her soul
A gift of ceramic Snail and Turtle

Her present, a symbol, its message of hope,
To slow down, in her times of her need
That I should just take it easy, relax a bit,
And enjoy the gifts, Gods given me

That was the day I stopped in my tracks,
Looked deep in her big hazel eyes
Thanked the heavens up above,
For a Child so beautiful and wise