My Child

My child, I love you. Did you know I love you? You are young—newly formed by my careful hand—and do not understand me yet, but I wait patiently for the day to come that we can walk together. I observe each and every day as you make sense of the earth you inhabit. You learn to crawl, then walk, then run, and dance. I smile and help pick you up when you fall. I care about you so deeply—even deeper than you could ever imagine, but that doesn’t stop me from loving you even more with each passing day. Now you are part of the world—in it and influenced by it. My heart quickens when I send one of my friends to you. My helper demonstrates me, introduces me, and tells you how I desire to have a relationship with you. I want to be your friend, your counsellor, your guide. You listen… I wait patiently for it to take root. My friend goes on to tell others of my love, and in the absence you forget and become lost. My heart sinks. You are confused, turning down paths in desperation that take you further from me. I watch as you pour yourself into relationships that end and leave you broken and more lonely than before. I want to help you, but you won’t accept my hand. I look on as you try to find happiness in nice things, but not even the best cell phone or clothes fulfil you like I can. I wish you would take my hand. I stare sadly as you try to make things better by improving your image. You think that your outward appearance would be better if you altered yourself to look more like everyone else, but I fashioned you as a unique individual with careful deliberation. I put all my effort into making you, you. I made you a breathtaking soul, but you don’t realise it. When improving your image doesn’t work, I hold my breath as you start to think it would just be better to end it all, to just give up and not have to deal with the pain any longer. I call out to you as you toy with objects that have the power to end the life I gave you. I see the sadness in your eyes, and my heart breaks again. I’m here. I’m here to listen even when you think there is no one left to care. You haven’t seen me yet, though. I watch as you toy with death, completely unaware. I call out for you over and over. You still can’t hear me. You resolve to play with death no longer. Life will never give you the completeness you desire, and neither will the danger of passing away. You have come to the end and do not want to go on any longer. I shout as loud as I can, but you don’t listen. Again, I scream your name. You are distant. Death comes up and grips your hand, propels itself towards you. But before it overtakes you, before it ends you right there, I shout out in desperation one last time. Oblivion dissolves from your countenance; death pauses ever so briefly. I step in between you and death’s power. Finally, you see me. Finally, you hear my voice. I love you. Did you know I love you? You rush to my embrace and I hold you to my heart. You make me promise I will never let go. I never did let you go, I reply. I never did.