A small pink blur breaks my line of vision.
I see red hair and blue eyes peek over a box.
The little girl, dressed in pink tatters,
stares with big innocent eyes.
"It's okay, don't hide."
Slowly she emerges,
her dress dancing in the wind,
her feet bare on the concrete.
The bag in my hand extended to her,
she carefully grasps the handle as if it were as fragile as glass.
I see the ends of her mouth curve up as she peeks inside,
finding a brand new dress and shoes.
With tear-filled eyes,
this helpless little girl
takes my hand,
and I pull her into a life of happiness and love.
Oh, that little girl;
the joy of my life,
the reason I live,
but most importantly,
my daughter.
