The Trophy

My girl…

Tends toward the awkward

and things break in her hands.


And when she first learned how to talk

she told me she had wobbly legs.


My girl…

Pink hurts her eyes

and dresses are her enemy.


And when she has to be fancy

she lets me help her pick out nice pants.


My girl…

Hates to give kisses

and only likes hugs from her parents.


And her back involuntarily stiffens

if anyone else tries.


My girl…

Coon skin cap always on,

she can body slam her big brother.


And will probably carry a choice husband home

over her shoulder one day.


My girl…

Yanks out her own teeth,

and barely feels a hurt when she flips and breaks a bone.


And she pops her knuckles like a fighter

before asking her daddy to pop her toes too.


My girl…

Who can take a tender moment and

goof it

spill it

crash it

smash it…

…will take the next


and love on her little brother like no one else on this earth

because really, deep down, in her heart…

he’s her baby.


And then she’ll take the next one


and fold her ten year old hands

to ask God if He would protect her heart…

from ever doubting Him.


And then in the next moment after that,


she’ll scoop up a baby she just met and hold it and love it and teach it

about this whole big world around us –right there in her lap…

attentive mama hen with a brand-new chick.


And then when she’s all done with that moment she’ll go and surprise you again with the next.


My girl…

She’ll take that trophy she just won,

that shiny sparkly unexpected joy,

the one she worked so hard for…

and she’ll offer it up, selflessly want to give it away to the one girl on the team…

who didn’t win anything.


That’s my girl.

My awkward




I wish my legs were wobbly like hers.





2 thoughts on “The Trophy

    1. Cassandra Post author

      And to those moments that make you sob or make you sing or make you write…sometimes all three at the same time, yes? Love you so, that you came to visit me here makes my heart smile. ❤



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