I didn’t know, until I first felt his little
hand tucked securely into mine, how much love my heart could contain. A passionate, fierce, intense love. A love so acute that it was almost
painful. A love that nearly took my
breath away.
I didn’t know, when the Lord saw my empty arms,
when I begged him for a child, for an opportunity to be a mother, to imprint my
life upon the life of another, that this was the child He had chosen for
me. This charming, magnetic child who
attracted people’s notice wherever he went.
Who would walk into a room and instantly meet his next best friend. Who would go outside early in the morning so
that he could knock on the new neighbors’ door and ask, “Do you have any kids
my age?” This bright, curious boy who taught
himself to read when he was four years old.
Who carefully drew up architectural plans for his LEGO blocks, and made
sure that the plans were followed accurately.
Who chose as his topic for his essay: “The Difference Between Alchemy
and Nuclear Fusion.” (Sorry, buddy. If you want my help with your homework,
you’re going to have to pick a different topic.
Or go ask your father.)
