Today, my Sprite turns 11.

As a little girl, she’s was a mini-Pigpen in sparkles and dresses. She loved to wear dresses, but I always had to make sure she had shorts underneath, because 5 minutes out the door and she’d be hanging upside down or turning cartwheels.  We use to call her Hobbit when she was tiny because she looked so much like the Hobbit children in The Fellowship of the Rings. She was an imp, a delight, a Sprite.

She has grown up into a lovely young girl. She’s a darn good softball player, far better and more competitive than I ever was. She loves fairy tales, folklore, and fantasy. Like I did as a child, she reads when she should be sleeping or working. Her passion is sharks, and her greatest dream is to ride a shark one day. Gulp. She is kind, creative, and compassionate. Sometimes, I worry that her heart is too tender, but then I remember that God gave her that heart for a purpose.
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Watching my daughters leave childhood and enter girlhood is bittersweet. They were such sweet children, and they are becoming amazing young ladies. This is her birthday, but I’m the one who was given the gift.  Happy birthday, sweet Sprite.