The Way My Flower Shined

she was small. simple as that. she moves with as much grace as a three year old could muster. she was beautiful like her mama. smart and quick-witted, like her papa. she could speak and read as well as any six year old. advanced and intelligent. the way i wanted my perfect little esmerelda to grow. she had friends, oh yes, a group. but she complained, that they could not understand her. i feared for the later years that she would have to over com the obsicles of being the only child in kindergarden to know how to read and write and how it will make her the outcast in middle school and high school. (*sigh) how hard it will be to see my little Esmerelda Bloom.