A stepdaughter is a wonderful gift from God. Not always easy, but delightfully rewarding in so many ways.
I met Hannah when she 8. Big chocolate eyes and long brown hair with an uneasy willingness to let me into her life. Memories of her cross my mind like I’m looking through a scrapbook of photographs. A little girl flying high on a swing in a park. A doe eyed daughter clinging to her Daddy. A young teenager spending her money at the mall the minute it was given to her.
Once we took Hannah to a gymnastics lesson. Her dad and I sat on the bleachers and watched her run and tumble. She was 10 or 11 and gangly and enthusiastic.
I remember watching her learn to cartwheel. John and I, ready to clap and cheer her on, watched in dismay as she fell flat. It was as if we were watching an Olympic ice skater do her routine only to fall down during a triple.
She was fine. Undeterred she went again and again. Her spirit was willing but her body…well, not so graceful.
Two weeks ago, John and I travelled to California to meet Hannah’s first child, a sweet little princess named Natalie. Hannah still has chocolate eyes and long brown hair. Her uneasy willingness to allow me into her life has disappeared. She placed little Natalie in my arms and said, “Meet Grandma.”
I watched Hannah being a new Mom during our short visit and it made me so proud. It was if I was watching an Olympic Mother, new to the sport but enthusiastic and confident. No stumbling falls.
Just grace. My sweet stepdaughter, the graceful Hannah.