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The Perfect Boy…
I wanted to be the perfect boy.
A perfect boy would do exactly as asked.
A perfect boy would be loved by everyone around him because he was so perfect. My little brother Timmy was what they used to call “all-boy,” an expression that was the highest badge of masculinity one could bestow on a properly rough and tumble youth. I thought if only I could be like Timmy then my Father might love me. Then I’d be the perfect boy. But the journey to being loved had nothing to do with being that perfect boy…
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Tossing Glitter...2 Comments
Every precious picture that you share– the one beautiful thing I have noticed- is the sparkle in your eyes.
It’s not the lighting, or the camera, or anything like that– it is a true, genuine sparkle that can only come from inside–
Nothing can stop it, or hide it– you are blessed by it- and you continually bless others by it!! That’s just one of the beautiful traits I
love about you!!
Mary- Such a beautiful thing to say, I’m touch and grateful. We all have obstacles along the way- and though things were sometimes tough if someone asked me if my childhood was a happy one I’d answer magical. How bad can magical be. Thank you for reading, supporting and adding your voice to Farm Stories!!! Love you!!! xoxo