twelve is a sheaf of in-betweenness, skirting the fence between childhood and the teenage years, becoming.
i think about who you are today. voluble. happy. an edacious reader, gamer, dodgeball enthusiast. eager, but with a heart that bruises easily. principled.
i hope you will always look out for your brothers and sister. i hope you will stoke your tendency to be merciful, to champion the oppressed, to find pleasure in the littlest things. i hope you want God more than air.
it's a tenuous hold i have on you, as a mother of a nearly-teen. i want you to be young enough still to take my best habits, old enough to sift through what i hand you and cast aside the dross.
i hope you are an agent of God's healing and justice. and i hope he holds you so tight.