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  • All summer Lexi has been working on her summer theatre production in the afternoons and volunteering at the camps in the morning. I noticed her dance shoes sitting in the morning light the other day and saw the shoes but also saw her dreams sitting right there -out in the open.

    She came home from rehearsal tonight and I thought she’d be tired and, for the most part, be ready to go to bed. But she didn’t. She talked. Not about anything super significant. Though I know it’s all significant to her. I just mean the words weren’t heavy. She talked about her day and the backstage shanagains. And she told me things that I’m sure she regretted, because I told her the kind of things that my parents would have told me. Funny how quickly these things happen. I hear words leaving my mouth and sometimes feel like a puppet. The natural order of things take over.

    Though when I can push away the puppet, and occasionally recognize this interaction happening maybe as an outsider might, it actually feels like just good friends talking. I guess more than friends it just feels like honest talk between two people with a real and authentic foundation between us.

    I say this a lot. I think because I mean it with everything in which I’m made. I’m so very lucky and blessed to have these moments and gifts as part of my everyday.

    To whomever decided that they should belong with me.

    They don’t go unnoticed. I promise.
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