Teenage Unicorn Bust Cake
Whenever she has any amount of down time, she draws.
Or she paints.
Or she makes bracelet charms out of clay.
One day, she got out the box of craft sticks, pastels and shellac and created a coaster that looks like an old, weathered wooden palette. I’ve got it in my living room. It’s seriously cool.
The girl is addicted to creating…my Sofia, my second born.
It relaxes her, and it brings her joy. I can see it happening with my own eyes as I watch her work, completely engulfed by whichever project catches her fancy.
And it makes me so stinking happy, I could burst.
She’s found her “thing”.
And by saying that, I don’t mean to imply that she’s all set. I’m not saying, “There it is- the girl knows what she wants to do with her life!”
I simply mean, she’s found the thing (or one of them anyway, as I think there can absolutely be several) that was put inside of her… given to her as a gift, I believe, to be used as a kind of outlet and source of joy for her life.
Something given to her that she was meant to use, to then give something back out to the world… for the world’s benefit and for her own.
Actually, I’m convinced that every single human being (k, maybe some animals, too) has been given there own “thing” like this,
that when found and used can bring happiness, confidence, courage and strength to our lives while bringing so much good to those around us as well.
But the worry, complication and pain of life has a way of getting in and fogging everything up so that we can barely see two feet in front of us, let alone what’s buried deep down in our hearts.
And because of that, we can forget about our gift… or totally miss it altogether, never even realizing that it’s there, quietly waiting.
But I can see Sofie’s gift plain as day, and right now so can she, and that’s why I’m happy-bursting.
That she’s already found it.
‘Cause you better believe that if that girl ever gets lost somewhere on this road of life, and the fog gets so thick that she just can’t find her way around,
as long as I still have legs, I’m going to be standing right next to her in the middle of that swirling fog, whispering into her ear the things I know about her gift,
reminding her where it is,
helping her find it again.
And I know that if for some reason neither Thomas nor I are still here to stand next to her, God will either send someone in our place to do the whispering, or He’ll do it Himself.
‘Cause we all got our “thing”-gift from Him, and I know He’s all about the whispering.
And I pray that she’ll always find her way back to it.
Sofie found a drawing of a teenage unicorn online one day, and decided to try her own hand at it. (Sofie’s version, above. We’re not sure of the original artist, unfortunately.)
And then we both decided it might be an awfully fun cake to create for her birthday.
Happy 13th birthday to my very own teenage unicorn.
I love you, baby girl. Xx