To my dearest Theodore...

On the gift I thought I wanted and the one God knew I needed.

I once dreaded the idea of having a daughter. The thought really unsettled me. How could I raise a girl, a black girl, in this world? (in this economy?). I couldn’t bear the thought of what she’d have to face, the hurdles she’d have to overcome simply because of who she is. No, I wanted no part in that.

But a boy? That, I thought I could handle. Black men have their own mountain of challenges, their own battles to fight in this world. Yet somehow, it felt easier to raise a boy than a girl. To be a man, I reasoned, was to at least have a chance to be heard, to be seen. It seemed safer. And so, I convinced myself that a son would be best.

Yet here I am now, marveling at how little I understood about what I needed or wanted. My desires are fickle things, unreliable guides in a world where only God knows what’s best. He knew I needed her, my baby girl, my perfect little girl who could do no wrong.

As surely as the sun rises and sets, I now anticipate the sweetness of her presence, the simple joy of her existence. ✨

Inside, it’s the sound of her voice, high-pitched and joyful, saying “Cheese!” She squares her face with her tiny fingers, mimicking a camera frame. Then comes the clicking sound, followed by a dramatic blink of her eyes. She’s been doing this for weeks now.

It all started during a random trip to Walgreens. I spotted a disposable camera and decided to buy it for her. I was shook by the price: $50 for something so archaic! But we were both already too excited. I handed over the money, and we left the store with her newfound treasure.

From the moment we stepped outside, she began snapping pictures. Or at least, she thought she was. As a two-year-old, she doesn’t yet grasp the mechanics of photography. Most of her shots were of her own legs, her feet, or the sky at odd angles. None of it mattered. She was delighted, and so was I.

By Christmas, I decided to upgrade her to a kiddie digital camera. It was cheaper and would let her take endless photos of her favorite subject: herself. Two days in, the camera broke. She kept turning it on and off, fascinated by the little lights and sounds. Figures. She’s only two.

But even without a functioning camera, she continues her pretend photography. The disposable camera might be forgotten by now, but her little fingers are still at work, framing the world through her eyes and capturing moments only she can see.

And now, I find myself marveling at her, at this life I never planned for, at this joy I couldn’t have imagined. I once thought I’d have a son, Theodore, but God gave me Reuelle instead. Her name reflects her essence—a friend of God, a child whose light and love remind me daily of what truly matters. She is my greatest gift. She has taught me to trust in God’s wisdom, to embrace the unexpected, and to cherish the beauty in the life I didn’t plan.

Reuelle, my perfect little girl, is a testament to the divine, a friend of God, and now, my heart’s dearest friend, too.