Handprints on my heart

On day 1, I was nervous. How would this 5-year-old feel going into a stranger’s home and staying the night? Would she be nervous, scared, overwhelmed? To my surprise, when I pulled up, you ran up with a next level joy I can’t even explain, gave me a hug and said “Hi, I’m D! I can’t wait to come have fun with you!” We went to the park that first day and then played a game where we threw rings on our head, fingers and toes. Your abounding laugh brought light & life into this quiet house and my guarded heart. Then, at the end of that first day, you hugged me and said, “Miss Kayla, I love you. You’re my family now.” And all my walls came down.

For the last 638 days, you have been my family and brought that sparkle and light into my life. You taught me to love everyone truly as Jesus would. No strings attached, fully joyful love. And oh, how you loved God. You taught me what forgiveness looks like, shrugging it off and hugging me and letting things go so quickly. You helped reveal all my weaknesses and the areas I need to grow in. Namely, patience. This little girl was so joyful and silly and did life on her own time which I so greatly admire, but how that tested me some days when we had to get out the door. There’s nothing more humbling than hearing “Wow, Miss Kayla, you’re doing a MUCH better job being patient with me!” 🤦🏼‍♀️

For the last 638 days, my house has been messy — mirrors filled with toothpaste, walls with sticky finger marks, baby dolls and Barbie’s everywhere, nose prints on the doors, and so many spilled coffees. The house has been loud — from laughter, meltdowns, squeals, tickle me Elmo forever going off in the toy box, and the Elsa doll singing Let It Go on repeat for hours. There was music playing nonstop and limitless dancing to go along with it. But the house was filled with life, even the days when you weren’t physically here.

This week, the house is quiet. The music stings. Your room looks barren without your favorite stuffies and baby dolls we sent home. The note you left me on your whiteboard completely shatters me when I walk by. For you left handprints on every piece of this home and every piece of my heart.

Sweet child, though our story book is closing, you are still my family now and for eternity.

638 days of pure sparkle. For the last four days, my light has been dim. Because I knew you, I have been changed for good. 💔