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My mentor “Mom what are you doing?” asked my thirteen year old daughter. “I’m trying to write a chronicle and I seem to be lost for words.” Holding her sketch pad, she plopped beside me on our sectional sofa. Legs crossed, she viewed the empty spaces of my journal. “Is it that hard to put words on paper?” she asked. Pondering the question I replied, “At times it can be. You can have many wonderful ideas; however, to create a beautiful story can be a challenge. It’s like taking a paintbrush to canvas and all you hope to achieve in a portrait becomes nothing but an abstract painting.” Absorbing what she just heard, she opened her sketch pad and began to draw. I marveled as her petite hands danced across the pages as lines began to form a picture. “What are you drawing?” I asked. “I decided to draw Daddy’s favorite freshwater fish, the angel fish. I thought this would be a nice gift for Father’s Day. He can hang it on the wall above the aquarium tank in our living room.” Completely captivated, my heart fluttered with joy. She is the mirror image of my being, my little gem, my mentor. I asked if I could take a peek at her pad. Without hesitation, she proudly turned each page and explained the hidden essence behind each picture. Like a child, I giggled with her as our mother/daughter bond grew deeper. I sat back and exhaled a soft sigh, drifting into memories; my little emerald gem, how you have changed my life in so many ways. From my loins, you emerged a helpless being. Colic of a child you were. Your cherubic face, always smiling bringing me up when I am feeling down. Waddling your first steps, scraping your knees and the first tooth you lost as you ate your apple. Your big brown eyes were the first thing I saw every time you peered into my room. Your voice so angelic, the supple sound lingers like the wind chimes on a breezy autumn day. Now I gaze upon you and you are becoming a young woman. Light brown freckles sprinkle across the bridge of your nose and the independence I so strongly feared is emerging from within. Don’t ever leave me baby girl…but someday you will. It’s a part of life. That same night, I took her to our favorite place, the local book store. She purchased a new art book and sketch pad. Two hours left before closing, we scouted our favorite corner. Together we sat secluded among hundreds of books. Peacefully we drifted into our own worlds. I was trying to come up with a conclusion for my story, when I gazed at my little gem. Tears slowly fell from my tired eyes as she looked up at me and whispered, “Mom, someday you and I will have our place on these shelves and the empty lines in your journal will be filled with words that everyone will want to treasure. Never stop dreaming the impossible.” With those words of wisdom, I concluded my chronicle. Monica Lynn Moraca was awarded third place for her poem Eyes of an Angel in the 2005 fictional/poetry winter contest sponsored by Beginnings Publishing Inc. and received honorable mention in the “Your Assignment” contest sponsored by Writer’s Digest in 2004. She is the proud mother of two teenagers, a devoted wife, and works full time as a payroll manager in a media company. She enjoys writing whenever her hectic schedule allows her – a passion she hopes to evolve full time.
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