My Goddaughter

A Non-Lyrical Ode to Rachel

My young Goddaughter gave me a book several years ago full of writing prompts to inspire me simply because she knew that I liked to write.  Tonight, as I flipped through the book and shrugged at the various topics, it dawned on me that I should write about her, a favorite subject of mine and all the prompting I’ll ever need.

Twenty years ago, life was a bit different for our family and friends.  The day-to-day was speeding along at a frantic pace, with everyone doing everything, everyday, to capture the Golden Goose, the search for a life of wealth and comfort both smeared and inspired by the nightly parties and evenings spent at the local bar.

There was a constant blast of classic Rock to be heard, a constant flow of alcohol in the veins, and the lingering stench of cigarettes in the air.  Yet somehow, in the middle of it all, a child was created, and life for all those idiots involved was calmed, slowed, and graced beyond what they deserved.

A little Sprite was born.  With sprigs of red hair on her head, a constant smile on her tiny face, and her eyes acutely soaking in her surroundings, she changed the lives of so many, in so little time, without her even knowing.

Through and around those inquisitive eyes were seen all the best and worst that Life has to offer.  With the strength, humor, and intelligent guidance of her parents, the wisps of red hair grew into a beautiful mane, atop the body of a lovely young woman armed with a mind matured twice its age.

There is no need to move over World.  She has the power to create her own space.

3 thoughts on “A Non-Lyrical Ode to Rachel”

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