Burdenofglory’s Weblog

When you were a wee little babe, Mommy sang this to you:

Maddie-poo

We love you

With a love so rare and true.

Oh, Maddie,

Our Maddie -poo-oo-oo.

Oh, we love you girl, yes, we love you Maddie-poo. (Please sing to the tune of Peggy Sue.)

When you were born you had hair like Elvis, thick and dark.  The nurse who bathed you in the hospital took forever styling your hair, and gave you a duck-tail.  I remember feeling frustrated, wondering when it was my turn to hold the baby.

When you learned to talk, you sounded like an elf.  I remember Kelli wishing you would stop having birthdays, knowing you probably couldn’t continue elfspeak  much longer.  You didn’t, and I miss it a little.

You were so content, and a smile lit up your face much of the time.

You have never really minded your own company.  You used to pretend to read books or play by yourself for hours.  Now, even if we have company, you sometimes disappear to quietly work on a project in your room.

You are the maker of Grandma Maggie’s chocolate chip cookies, and eater of copious amounts of dough.

You see beauty and wonder in so many places, places I forget to look now that I’m a Responsible Adult.

You have watched so many westerns with Dad.  How many times have you watched War Wagon?

I am so grateful that you understand God’s grace so thoroughly.  You told me that you had wanted to be a medical missionary several months ago.  Recently, you said you used to worry about going to hell, and had thought that being a missionary could help you get to heaven.  However, now that you understand works don’t get you to heaven, you’ll just be an artist.

Happy birthday, dear girl.  We love you.