On Loving Hannah

My first baby celebrated her 14th birthday this summer.  That is wicked crazy.  I remember being 14.  I remember that I thought my parents were dumb as rocks (they weren't).  I remember that I thought I was old enough to take on the world and be on my own (I could have, but I'd've made a lot of ouchie mistakes in the process).

Fortunately, Hannah seems a little more mature than I was.  She has an amazingly strong and pure spirit.  She works at being honest and good and true...Christlike.  Yeah, she's got things to work on and a stubborn streak about 50 miles wide (nooooooooooooo idea where she got that from).  But she's so good.

Hannah can excel at just about anything she puts her hand to ... piano, cello, school work, church work, puzzles, art, peacemaking in the family.  Children can feel her love and respect.  Mom and Dad have to work to make sure we don't take advantage of Hannah's awesomeness.

I remember when Hannah was born and we found out she was a girl, and I said I would ship her off to boarding school at 13 if she was anything like me ... but the wonderful thing is: she's not like me.  She's better and unique and amazing, and I wouldn't trade her for anything.