My sweet little daughter loves to draw and write stories. When she hangs out with me at the shop she takes all the printer paper, the stapler, and a box of markers and gets to work binding her own books.
Just this morning as she told me about the outfit she was putting together for the day, I looked at her eyes and was struck by how bright and clear they are. I said a silent prayer that nothing would ever happen to her to darken those eyes. Yet I know that those things happen in all our lives. And I know that those things can turn for our good. Yet I pray that nothing ever darkens her bright eyes. And I hope against hope.
Last night we were having ice cream and she said, "Daddy, if I died would you be sad forever?"
I answered, "Yes, sweetheart." But there are no words to express the grief that would consume my every waking moment.
As I prayed this morning, I thought of how the Savior entreated us all to be as little children, and I imagine he means that our eyes should be as my daughters eyes, bright and clear. But doesn't it also say somewhere that we should wise as serpents? I don't know how to reconcile that.
I just want my daughter to always be safe.