I got home not long ago from dropping my daughter off at school for the day. I took off my shoes, hung up my jacket, went through the hallway outside our bedroom, and found a pair of my daughter’s school uniform pants lying in the hallway for some reason.
I picked up her pants and took them into Alicia’s room to leave them somewhere out of the way. Alicia has a dressing table in her room that she absolutely loves. It’s a “typical girl” place tucked away in one corner of the room, complete with a little stereo, a pink Mickey Mouse hat sitting on top of some books, one of her mom’s curling irons so she can work on her strawberry blonde hair … typical girl.
It was what was hung up on the front right corner of the dressing table that caught my eye and grabbed me by the heart. It literally took my breath away for a second when I read what was on it, and I said quietly, “Oh, my …”
I had never seen it before. If she’d ever brought it to my attention before, maybe I was too busy to pay much attention to it. I doubt that. It was a sign she had made herself, put together with paper and crayons.
Here it is: