Eden Jean

Number two kiddo, Eden Jean. Oh, this little girl is very much like her namesake in the book, which is funny since I wrote the story when she was a toddler, her personality was just beginning to take shape. Eden is petite and very energetic. (The two seem to be connected: move, stay tiny. Don’t move, don’t stay tiny.)

Just like the character, Eden, our Eden was also named after a garden. They both like to bake and cook and have a flair for the dramatic. Without a hint of intimidation, Eden steps on a stage. Her advanced imagination beckons her audience to lean in, smile,

and cheer for more. She will take her mark on the British Baking Show someday, sport the accent, and take home the prize. I’m sure of it.

It has only taken me five years of UFC-type hugs to force this flitting Tinkerbell into submission. Now, she comes willingly for a cuddle. She lets me stroke her hair and look into her oh-so-black eyes to tell her how much I love her.

She is an over-comer, untangling the letters and numbers that grade school so relentlessly hurls. I’m so proud of our Indian Princess. (Paternal great-grandmother passed down enough DNA to give her striking coloring but not enough for free college and tribal benefits. Bummer.)

Eden, if you read this someday in the distant future, I want you to know something true. Your beauty goes way past the pretty outside. You are pretty deep deep deep inside. You are kind and tender. You are an unknowing leader, as most people with a desire to serve are. Patient with your siblings, always concerned for their well being. You are joy. You are eternally loved. You are a place of pleasure and delight. Jesus will always be your closest friend, this will be your legacy.

Jiji