You’re six today, Sweet Girl! It’s pretty hard to believe.

Though you don’t quite understand months and weeks and even days all the way, you’ve been living with much anticipation knowing your birthday was approaching sometime soon. We’ve checked the calendar so many times this month, as you’ve found the day where I’ve drawn the cake and written your name. I bought presents and made pancakes for breakfast and we filled our upstairs with balloons for you to find when you woke up. I hope you feel celebrated and loved, because you really, truly are.

Many mamas are able to vividly remember the day their babies entered this world, but that is not our story. I didn’t spend time with you during the middle of the night feedings or diaper changes. I didn’t see your first smile, first steps, or first words. I’m not the only mom you’ve ever known, and that makes our story heartbreaking and heartwarming all at the same time. That’s how this world works so often, little one. Two huge emotions at the same time. You know this well, since your emotions are big and real and easily seen and heard by those around you. I love this about you and can’t wait to see the ways your sensitive heart is used in this world. What a gift to feel so fully.

So how do I describe you on this 6th birthday of yours?

You’re spunky and persistent and sometimes your dad and I just look at each other and wonder how someone so small can be so incredibly funny.

You’re empathetic and kind. You love babies and toddlers and the elderly, basically anyone who seems like they might need your help. You are quick to notice when others are hurt, and literally run to grab ice packs and band-aids.

You are an actress – able to pretend for hours with just a few toys because your imagination is actually your playground.

You are joyful and silly and you leave an impression with everyone you meet. Just today, two individuals from our church reached out to see if they could bring you a gift. You’re so easy to fall in love with.

Before you went to sleep last night, when the Bible story had been read and it was time for you to climb into bed, you grabbed your pillow, turned to me and said,

“Mama, will you rock me?”

And for the last time, I rocked my five-year-old for a moment and reminded you that I will rock you for as many years as you want. If that’s the place that makes you feel safe and secure and at peace, then crawl on up, Sweet Girl, I’ve got a place for you.