this memory. The taller you grow, the darker your locks become. All except for the edges framing your face. There, platinum whisps seek out ownership around those Daddy blue eyes. With all but one speck of Mama green in the right, your eyes tell such great stories. Serene, sulky or silly, your looks captivate your company. You have the gift of greatness. It's almost as if you command them to be. Looking intently into each set of eyes you meet only to say "Hold me." Unbeknownst to us all and before long, we are mesmerized by the great space you fill no matter where you are. Yes, the gift of greatness. I hold you close and hear your dreams retold. I often combat the cantankerous when the exclusive time of mama isn't enough for you. I snuggle and smell and listen for as long as my time will allow. Trying all the while to stay adept to your impressions upon me, yet I lose myself in you. The power of greatness does that. So, I succumb. Me in my nightgown marveling at the little boy who has my heart and so many others too. I pray often that you find strength in the greatness that God has intended for your life. That your story telling and people reaching bring glory to His name. And, that you seek greatness too. In others. In yourself. In learning. In love.
I will, Casey Face.
And, I'll watch on as others comply to this mandate of yours.
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