I just looked in on you while you were sleeping. You were sprawled in that careless way that only a child can achieve after a long day of play and learning.

I looked at you and saw the face of an angel. An angel that can play in the mud, dump a whole box of cereal on the floor, scribble on the wall with my best lipstick, and make it up by saying, "I love you, Mommy."

Do you know how precious you are to me? Do you know what it means to me when you run up to me with arms open wide, and for no particular reason, hug me, and tell me that I'm your favorite mom?

Or when you greet me at the front door, face smeared, hands covered with dirt, holding a bunch of weeds (you called them flowers) and say, "These are just for you, because I love you!"

I know that you'll grow up some day, as children always do. And you'll love me and you'll hate me, depending on the mood of the moment. I remember the storms of adolescence crashing on the relationship of my mother and myself.

And someday you'll leave me. To go to college, to another job, to start a family of your own, or just to go find out what's "out there." And I'll have to let you go.

But I wanted to keep this moment, when you are mine, and mine alone. Seeing you, watching you, loving you, as you lay sleeping.

All my love,

Mom