Victoria Catherine Flick was a happy seven-year-old. As we reflect on our little girl, and the things that made her happy, bubbles come to mind. How she loved having bubbles blown through the plastic wand for her! Chocolate would come in second, followed by swimming in her pool, and the new bicycles certainly earn rank on the chart. full story>>
My GiftThe wrapping is neutral, the bow full and perfect,
This is for you He said, “Take care of it”.
When the time is right, open it and hold it close.
My heart knows its contents, but my eyes are unable to see.
My fingers caress the package, eager, yet calm.
I’ll let it be for awhile… I entice the ribbon, delaying.
But I’m anxious, I embrace my gift one more time,
Then begin to peel the paper ever so gently, not to disunite it.
Oh! What a beautiful box!
I placed my hands on the lid, they shake.
I panic, my breath is short and hard. Easy now, I tell myself.
It’s off! What’s this, more paper inside?
I pulled the crumbled bits out, one by one.
I never realized how deep this box was.
At last I feel it. Lovingly I lift it.
Oh no! It’s broken. I know, I’ll put some glue on it and piece it together.
I turned it around so no one could notice its imperfections.
Through time I felt comfortable with the cracks no one ever saw.
So I turned it back around and they were gone, at least to me.
So I said “thank you” and meant it.
I named my daughter VICTORIA – for VICTORY!
Love,
Mommy
Deborah Flick
October, 1997