Bambi

September 16th, 2025

Dear Moriah,

You held my hand as we walked to your playdate. On the path, the world hushed for us—because there, not five steps ahead, stood a mother deer and her two babies.

They startled, trembled. But instead of running, they looked at us. And so we spoke softly to them, as if we’d slipped into a fairytale, as if Snow White had borrowed our voices. We told them they were safe.

We marveled at the way they moved—their legs folding and unfolding in perfect rhythm, a choreography written by God Himself. Their bodies, elegant lines of muscle and grace. Their eyes, wide brown pools reflecting back wonder.

It’s always the small things. A reminder that art isn’t just framed in museums. It’s everywhere—if you’re willing to open your eyes.

I’m proud of you always.

Love,

Mommy

A soul entrusted with another soul, to bring a glimmer of Godliness into this world.