Sunday, May 6, 2012

P is for Poor

You are poor.
There are 925 million hungry people in the world (the 2010 world, that is).
You are not one of them.
We were short on “regular” oatmeal one recent morning, so I stretched the pot by adding some instant peach-infused oatmeal we had sitting around for some reason.
P is for peaches.
And P is for piglet.  But I digress…
You love oatmeal.  I set a bowl of it in front of you.  You took one bite and refused to eat any more.
You don’t like peaches.
Daddy tried to reason with you.  Explaining how peaches are good for you and you need to eat healthy food in order to be healthy.
You pointed out that peaches aren’t the ONLY healthy fruit.  If YOU had a child, you insisted, you would feed her MANGOS instead of peaches.
I explained that mangos are rather expensive at this time of year, really at any time of year in this part of the world.  We can’t afford mangos all the time.  Sometimes we have to eat peaches instead.
You then insisted that you would one day be rich, so your daughter would never have to suffer such travesty.
Yes, my girl, by some standards, your parents are not rich.  You are not rich.  You are poor.
But in all the ways that matter, you have everything you need.

My Father is rich in houses and lands,
He holdeth the wealth of the world in His hands!
Of rubies and diamonds, of silver and gold,
His coffers are full, He has riches untold. 

Though poor on this earth, oh, why should I care?
Since glorious things for me God doth prepare;
Though trials abound, yet, still I may sing:
All glory to God, I'm a child of the King.

  ~ Harriet E. Buell

I love you, my amazing, beautiful, clever, dilly-dallying, energized, following, grace-filled, hidden, indomitable, Jericho-miracle, kidlet, loved, mirroring, named, one-of-a-kind, poor baby girl!
Your Mom
Each birthday, I write a letter to my baby girl.  This year, the year of the amazing 5-year-mark, I’ll be working from A to Z.