It’s the little things that make me strong. And this little girl, whom I’ve known since before she even existed, looks up to me.
I vacillate between knowing she should because I’m an excellent role model and will always support her and wondering how someone can see good in me when I’m so broken.
She is also at that critical age [tweens] where her identity formation is what will shape her confidence; I don’t want her to feel like I did. Her parents are phenomenal parents no questions! I an just the side support.
Anyways, she made me something; a little something. My favorite animal. Wearing my favorite color shoes.
And it means the world to me.
I told her parents a few months back how I am in recovery and struggling. They were totally taken by surprise. I also told them that they have no idea how their daughters have literally kept me alive at times–they gave me purpose but also were the refresh I would need and would get. Being able to spend a day a week with them has been the best thing to happen to me.
And these girls do not even know it.
So this morning I took a picture of my little gift that I got this week. I cannot bring it with me everywhere I go because she handmade it out of fimo clay and I do not want it to break!! But this picture gives me the strength when I need it the most.
Sometimes, it is the little things.