My Dear Shekinah,
Likely you will not find your name written down in history as one of the richest human being ever existed. You might not even caused a stir. Probably because that's not your purpose.
When you came, things were awful and grim. Everything was in topsy-turvy. But we were simply overjoyed. Everything just melted in your presence. You were our small miracle. And we savored every second with you, for life as you will come to understand years from now is but so short and for some reason, even eternity is.
You are now 18 months and 3 days. And you never cease to amaze me. People around seem to notice so many miracles about you each day. Little miracles continue to poke my fragile chest for until now having you has not seem to have fully sunk in yet. God has always been miraculously kind to me, dear Kiny. I don't need any other phenomenon to prove that. You, finding a way to my womb is more than enough.
I am glad your Daddy is proud of you. I could not have asked for more than seeing your father see you grow like you have and will continue to be. I know, as early as your age now, you seem to have endeared yourself to your father more than to me, your mom. I don't have any qualms about that. All my reprimands and "I told you" blabbers must have registered "Mommy is tough on me" in your tender consciousness. Believe me, I don't mind if you find me hard on you. I just pray that one day, you'd grow to be a woman of substance and strength. And that is because I have a promise to keep.
I dare not say, I have enough strength to rear you up perfectly for that would make me the wife of Superman. But just the same, I'd rather be a villain for the moment. I will wage war against the world and anything that takes you away from pursuing what you are meant to be. Tomorrow, I will be proud.
The world, Shekinah, is not a happy place. Grown ups are made to believe that happiness is attainable here. And for one fleeting moment, such claim may seem right.
Grown ups like me gamble for this passing pleasure. It takes grit for one to see that this world saps every color, every pure thing that one brings to this cranky planet. While you, despite your seeming fragile state are meant to stand tall in the midst of all these. You will be trained, you will be fighting. This is what I am saddled with. This is my job for the moment, perhaps my only purpose.
When you are grown when I would then be reduced to useless skin and bone entity, you will know how to wage the right war. Yes, we are at war. And you are part of the hope that the Greatest Hope is sending. May in the midst of these, you do not lose your innocence. This is going to be your shield. May you continue to giggle at simple things, such will be your helmet. For now, these will do. The rest will come to you, things that may not be known to me, only to you in due time.
As I said, you are not like the rest. You are predestined to be different, to be resistant to the molds around, but to be pliant to the one that pointed you to the dark arterian tunnel toward my womb. There will be more like you. But you are Shekinah. And that makes all the difference.
One day, you will see.
I love you,
Mommy
