Farewell Kindergarten

            If
I could, I’d keep you in kindergarten. The tallest one with the biggest smile.
The strawberry-blonde beauty who follows and who makes friends easily. The
miracle who melted our hearts and is growing up.
            When
did you get so smart? Where did that attitude come from? What are you thinking
when you give your father one of those looks? Why are you no longer this tiny
little bundle I can carry around in one arm?
            You
might think we baby and spoil your twin sisters but you don’t know. You will
never know there was one princess we babied and spoiled more than both of them
combined. One day we can show you all the pictures and videos but still—you
won’t get it. And that’s okay as long as you feel loved.
            I
love you little girl but you know something? I like you a lot too. I just like
you. Your laugh makes me laugh. You wild
energy can be contagious. Sure, you make us crazy just like any six-year-old
might do, but still. I like how you lead your sisters but you never boss around others. I like how you watch. I like how you look out the window when a
favorite song of yours plays. I like the moments when you really are a great
big sister. I like the times you surprise us with doing something or saying
something. I like how you still act like you’re the only two-year-old I have around.
            I
like you Kylie. I tell you I love you all the time but I really do like you,
too.
            The
years since your dynamo sisters have been born have been tough ones, but I hope
you don’t feel that. I hope you feel they’ve been fun and busy and crazy. I
hope you still feel as special as you did before they were born. You will
always be the first girl to come along. You will always be our only Kylie.
Nobody and nothing compares to you. For several years, we were able to give our
hearts fully to you. Now we just have to share them. But that’s okay. You can
share your heart too.
            Kindergarten
ends tomorrow. In some ways, I’m glad. But in other ways, I’m a little sad.
Where’s that little girl going? What’s going to happen when first grade ends,
or third, or sixth, or ninth grade?
            I
hope and pray that God watches over you and your heart in the upcoming years. I
hope He gives your parents the strength and the wisdom to be good parents. And
I hope you will always like your father, the way I like you.
            You’re
special, Kylie. I never want you to forget that. Sometimes, you’re so special
that means you’re in deep trouble, that you’re not getting a treat, that we’re
taking money out of your piggybank. But most of the time, you’re special
because you’re you.
            Don’t
ever change that. Don’t ever change you. ‘Cause I really like you.
            Thank
you, Heavenly Father, for giving us Kylie Shea Thrasher.