Once there were shoes
I could carry in one hand,
a laugh that echoed through toy boxes,
a little boy who believed
every monster could be chased away
if Mom was close enough.
Now your steps are longer.
You carry your own treasures—
LEGO pieces,
Halloween candy,
dreams that seem to grow
faster than the seasons.
Your smile has changed,
your hair has changed,
your voice is beginning to find
the person it will become.
But when I look at you,
I still see every version.
The boy in the green hoodie,
the superhero racing across a lawn,
the child who leaned against me
for one more picture,
the kid who proudly held up
something he had built
as if he’d discovered magic.
Maybe he had.
Because growing up
is its own kind of magic—
becoming someone new
without ever truly leaving
the little boy behind.
No matter how tall you stand,
or how many birthdays pass,
there will always be a place
where you fit perfectly—
right here,
inside your mother’s heart.
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