Treat Her Well
I bequeath to you today one little girl in a crisp dress , two twinkling eyes and a happy laugh that ripples all day long and a flash of shiny hair that bounces in the sun when she runs. I trust you’ll treat her well. She’s slipping out of the back yard 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. Frail and proud she’ll wave her young and independent hand this morning and say “Good Bye” and walk with little lady steps to the school house. 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 to the ceiling in a disinterested way when the little boy across the isle sticks out his tongue at her. And now she’ll learn to be jealous and now she’ll learn how it feels to be hurt inside now she’ll learn how not to cry. No longer will she have time to sit on the front porch steps on a summer day and watch an ant scurry across the crack in the side walk. Nor will she have time to pop out of the bed with the dawn and kiss the lilac blooms in the morning dew. No, now she’ll worry about those important things. Things like grades, and which dress to wear and whose best friend is whose. The books and learning will replace the blocks and dolls. Now she’ll find new heroes. For 5 full years now, I’ve been her sage and Santa clause and pal and playmate and father 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 greatest man 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 a group with all of its privileges and 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 at the front porch and watch her start out on that long lonely journey to becoming a woman. So world I bequeath to you today one little girl in a crisp dress with two twinkling eyes and a flash of hair that bounces in the sunlight when she runs. I trust you’ll treat her well.
I pasted and copied this poem from the KLove Website: for more stories like this, go to Klove.com, click on 'on air talent', click on John and Sherri Rivers, then click on stories. This one is called 'Treat Her Well'.