When I think of you, my memories take me back to a lush green cemetery a few weeks after the fifth of July. There you are, clad in white, a whisp of a girl, dancing her heart out to Jesus, underneath a tall sturdy oak. People gathered around. Eyes wet with the tears of grief and sadness, but sparkling with the hope of that coming day - when we shall again be reunited with our loved ones. That glorious day wherein we shall all be caught up in the sky, whenceforth all tears WILL be wiped away, and burdens lifted. There you were, a testament to all of us, of gentle faith, of abandoned love, of simple and complete trust and of perfect peace. The picture of you dancing at the foot of your baby brother's grave that warm July Saturday (sweet sadness, and courage intermingled), twirling in the sun, held fast by the Son, will be kept in my memory forever.Dear Mikaela, I have been so blessed by you. You may be years my younger, but in Spirit I see you as as someone I can look up to. Don't loose your sweet innocence, your gentle heart, your delicate reverence. You are a precious gem in the eyes of your Heavenly Father, a gift to the world, and a light to me. I love you.
P.S. We will never be too old to dream up imaginary families and draw our dream houses and write each other funny letters. I promise.
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