little one, I will not forget you curled up on the floor in a tight ball crying. I will not forget picking you up and feeling you rest your head on my shoulder as you cried. I will not forget your eyes lighting up or your silly giggle as I told you you did a good job talking to me. I will not forget how you asked if you could not go home because it made you feel bad inside, and if instead you could come home with me. I will not forget you leaving the office, then turning back to give me one more tight hug as you left, and telling me we would play again someday. I will not forget the heartbreak I feel just thinking about how no one in your family can care for you, and how those that have been appointed to take care of you have let you down. I will pray for you little one. I know how trite that sounds, it does in my own mind too. But I am choosing to believe it means something. I pray that one day you will know a Father that moved heaven and earth for you. A Father that sent His son to die for the pain that your stories are filled with. Died for pain too big and heavy for a five year old to bear. I pray that you will know that He knows your sweet, precious name. I pray for happy birthdays, and a home that is safe. I pray that wherever you end up, you get to be a child. I pray that today will mark the beginning of a safer life for you. One where you are not just tolerated, used, and abused, but loved, treasured, and cherished.
My forever mood.











