August 24, 2003

 

 

"Mamma, can I do that?" My once-quiet daughter asked as she watched me milking one of the cows that we had.

"Sure. Let me help you." I showed her all she had to do. 

"I like doing this." She spoke out as happily as she could.

"I bet there’s a lot that you'd like to talk about." That’s when she went quiet again.

"What’s wrong?" I asked, starting to worry.

"I speak too much. I sorry." That took me by surprise

"No, you don’t. I've been wanting you to talk; you just do it as much and as long as you want to. I won't stop you."

"Really?" I nodded yes then helped her out of her seat. I poured the stuff into the holding containers behind us. I picked her up.

"Shanda, what made you not talk for so long?"

"My Daddy didn't let me. Said that he didn't want to hear it. I was too noisy." Her face dropped.

"He told me that if I didn't stop he would get rid of me and no one would want me." I felt myself get angry. How could anyone do this to a child? Especially this one, she's so sweet and loving.

"Shanda where's your real mother?"

"You are." I smiled.

"Yes I am but what about the one that had you first." 

Shanda shook her head. "I see." I now understood why that little girl had never spoken; she was afraid that I would get rid of her as well.

I held her so she could get a better look at my face.

"You are where you belong now and you can make as much noise as you want when you play or do chores or whatever you want." Her eyes lit up before she leaned to me so she was close to my ears. Shanda whispered the words I'll cherish for the rest of my life.

"I love you Mamma," Tears filled my eyes,

"What’s wrong?"

"Nothing, I'm just so happy. You don't know how long I've wanted you to say that to me." Shanda started grinning more as I held her to me as I walked into the other barn to see how Timmy was coming along with his chores before heading inside.

 

 

Skyla, Kenya and Shanda played like there was no tomorrow. I just listened to them as if this was all just a dream.

As I watched, I heard a crash from the kitchen. Jumping up and running, Chase had managed to knock the trashcan over again.

"Chace Cullen Walker, You know that you’re not to be in that trash!" I scolded as my hand connected with his diapered backside. He looked at me before deciding to cry. I went ahead and put him in the crib I had placed in the living room, as I was weaning both him and Bliss from sleeping in my room. I watched as Bliss headed towards the mess.

"Bliss, you get into that trash, I'll smack you backside as well." I warned. She must have understood because she turned and headed to another area of the house. It was getting late anyways; the twins had been out for sometime already. I called to the young girls telling them to get ready, I was going to get their brother and tell him to get ready for bed as well.

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