Brave Little Girl

That’s my little daughter,

now months away from turning six,

but in that above photo,

she was just two years and nine months.

She’s not looking cheerful or adorable,

rather, she looks miserable, confused.

Why am I showing?

For she was bearing a huge mountain

on her frail shoulders.

Courage is not always,

seen tangibly,

but it is being waged,

and earned silently.

So let me tell you what I mean.

I was in the hospital,

for delivery of my second child.

No help, no relatives,

to care for our firstborn,

as we live far away,

from homeland and community,

as unsupported immigrants.

A kind friend couple

took her to their house,

to stay with their kid.

A huge favor to us,

a major gesture of kindness.

I know many children,

who have never stayed

without their mother,

even for a day!

But this little one,

spent three long days

away from her parents,

the only blood relations,

she knew.

In a half-stranger’s home,

she spent days,

eating what they gave,

sleeping when they told,

no tantrum, no meltdown.

She stayed strong,

she must have told herself,

"It must be an emergency,

or mommy would not have

left me;

she will come soon,

and pick me up."

In the photo above,

she had gone to the park,

a huge void in her heart,

but she still played.

As I see this picture,

I feel what valor is,

how to endure fear and grief,

and feel proud of her.