A little while ago my daughter directed me to one of her favorite on- and offline passions.
Mommy, come see.
A writing contest.
I think you could win because you’re a really good writer.
It seems to me that I don’t hear that very often from a real live person, or a least not often enough.
Still, I let it slide a bit, because although my daughter is certainly wonderful, she’s not that kind of wonderful, not that kind of competitor, not that kind of hero, prodigy or star. And neither am I.
When the time came to write the essay, I had to keep it real.
When the time came to mention the honors, they told us she was quite real enough.
I hope you’ll read all about it. Georgia was happy enough with the essay, and her prize, but happier still with the cardboard kingdom it inspired one Sunday in the garage.
That’s my real girl. And this is the real-life lesson she keeps giving me: believe in yourself and each other just the way you are.