A Conversation With My Younger Self

I walk in that familiar room and even as an adult my footsteps are shaken

I look around breathing in the memories of a childhood that feels long ago taken

I see her there and she is more beautiful than I could ever imagine

That little bob, straight across bangs, bouncing around the room looking for action

She notices me and with a confidence we are slowly regaining says, “Hi I’m Hallee, who are you?”

I bend down to her level and begin speaking as I start to tie her untied shoe

“I’m you when you’re older, isn’t that cool?” And her face fills with a smile so big

She places her hands on my cheeks and holds my gaze “Wow, we’re beautiful” and she does a silly jig

How can I possibly tell her that we are just starting to believe that truth

That these are the kind of thoughts that will haunt most of her youth

Instead I smile back and affirm her telling her all the truths I know she will fight to believe

Hoping that she can look back onto this memory and gain some reprieve

She looks at me with wonder and ponders what may seem like a simple question

She says “What’s it like being a grown up?” and I look around for somebody else to give a suggestion

There is so much to say but I couldn’t stand to see her heart shatter

I mean she still believes in Cinderella and happily ever after

She believes in princes and knights in castles made of stone

She believes in wishing on stars when she is all alone

She believes in journals that hold the weight of her dreams

She believes in a Heaven made of gold with flowing chocolate streams

So I say, “sweet girl I wish being a grown up was as simple as wishing on a star, waiting for it to come true

But being a grown ups more like when you dream at night everyday can bring something new.

You get to close your eyes and open them up never knowing what is in store

The dreams will grow and change shape—but they’ll always be yours

Joy and fear, sadness and anger, will all demand to be felt by you

But through it all there’s a light softly shining, holding steady and true.

The night can feel endless and sometimes the dreams feel unclear,

But that light will guide you gently, casting out all your fear.

We had to learn to trust that light, its a love you can’t always see,
It’s your Heavenly Father weaving your story, setting you free.

And every dream that you dream, and every tear that you cry,
Will be held in hands bigger than the endless sky.”

That little face is staring up at me and I see a tear fall out the corner of her eye

I realize she already knows of the shadows and dreams that make her cry

She says, “but dreams can be scary and I’m not allowed to crawl into mom and dads bed

So what do I do when the dark and the shadows fill my head?”

I shake my head, “It sounds crazy to say, but the light is always there no matter how dark the dreams get

And most of the time it’s us doing the hiding, on that I would place a bet

She frowns a little and kicks the floor, “So it’s my fault, it is because I’m not brave,”
And I say, “little one—bravery isn’t the absence of fear, that is not a path you are going to pave

“You will not be perfect, you’ll cry, and you’ll fall, and you’ll lose your way,
But you’ll always get back up, because of love that will stay”

“You’re prayers won’t always be answered in the way that you planned,
But they will always be heard, always held, by His steady and gentle hand.”

“The world will be loud and more often then not what you are really hiding from is the noise

But the world is still beautiful, it’s where you’ll find people and unexpected joys”

She nods and bites her lip, “But will I be alone when I’m big like you?”
I pull her in close, “Never. Not even once. Not with God. Not with me, too.”

Then she whispers, almost shyly, “Will I still get to sing and dance when I want”

And I grin, “Oh Hallee, you’ll do all of that—and more- both joy and journeys to flaunt

“You’ll love and you’ll laugh so hard that it aches,
And you’ll make mistakes—so many mistakes—but none that the Father can’t remake.”

She breathes a sigh and leans into me, like letting go of a secret we were both trying to keep,
And I hold her, the child I was, the soul still learning how to sleep.

She sits up and gives me one last longing stare while getting ready to stand

She doesn’t try to do it on her own, she lets me hold her hand

And before she runs back off to her world of singing, playing pretend, or whatever it is that young Hallee’s do

She turns to me and says, “Im really glad I’ll grow up to be you.”