Dear World:
I bequeath
to you today one little girl...in a crispy dress...with two blue eyes...and a
happy laugh that ripples all day long.. and a flash of light strawberry-blond
hair that bounces in the sun when she runs.
I trust
you'll treat her well.
She's
slipping out of the backyard of my heart this morning...and skipping off down
the street to her first day of school. And never again will she be completely
mine.
Prim and
proud she'll wave her young and independent hand this morning and say
"Goodbye" and walk with little lady steps to the schoolhouse.
Now she'll
learn to stand in lines...and wait by the alphabet for her name to be called.
She'll learn to tune her ears for the sounds of school-bells...and
deadlines...and she'll learn to giggle...and gossip...and look at the ceiling
in a disinterested way when the little boy 'cross the aisle sticks out his
tongue at her. And now she'll learn to be jealous. And now she'll learn how it
is to feel hurt inside. And now she'll learn how not to cry.
No longer
will she have time to sit on the front porch on a summer day and watch an ant
scurry across the crack in the sidewalk. Nor will she have time to pop out of
bed with the dawn and kiss lilac blooms in the morning dew. No, now she'll
worry about those important things...like grades and which dress to wear and whose
best friends is whose. And the magic of books and learning will replace the
magic of her blocks and dolls. And now she'll find new heroes.
For five
full years now I've been her sage and Santa Claus and pal and playmate and
mother and friend. Now she'll learn to share her worship with her teachers
...which is only right. But no longer will I be the smartest woman in the whole
world. Today when that school bell rings for the first time...she'll learn what
it means to be a member of the group...with all its privileges and its
disadvantages too.
She'll
learn in time that proper young ladies do not laugh out loud...or kiss
dogs...or keep frogs in pickle jars in bedrooms...or even watch ants scurry
across cracks in sidewalks in the summer.
Today
she'll learn for the first time that all who smile at her are not her friends.
And I'll stand on the front porch and watch her start out on the long, lonely
journey to becoming a woman.
So, world,
I bequeath to you today one little girl...in a crispy dress...with two blue
eyes...and a flash of light strawberry blonde hair that bounces in the sunlight
when she runs.
I trust
you'll treat her well.
Author:
Victor Buono
