The little things in life can mean so much, no matter how insignificant they seem. Reportedly childish things should mean the world to you.

Parents tucking you in at any age, and ensuring you that everything will be okay. Parents rushing to see if everything is okay when you have a nightmare. Parents listening to you no matter what you are saying. All such little things, but they are so important.

Parents hounding you about your homework. Parents making a big deal when you go on your first date. Parents giving you a hard time, despite them knowing how annoyed you can get! Such small things that add up to such a big picture.

Why have we forgotten the little things, though they mean the most? Have the luxuries of a foreign life taken over? There was a time when people lived off of the little things. Perhaps you need reminding of just how lucky you are. I know I did, and my life wasn’t always sweet. There were many sad moments, but no matter what happened, I was lucky to be alive.

As a child, I was not a child. I was a caregiver to a disabled aunt. My own parents chose another life over me. My sisters blamed me for the loss of the mother we could barely remember. As though being parent-less was not enough, the children at school taunted my awkward state. While they went to events with their parents, I stayed home with an aunt. While their fathers read to them, the principal read to me. And while they all hated life, I was glad to have mine.

Growing up is never easy, especially when it’s forced. Being tossed around among family, only makes it worse. When I felt the dirtiest and hated myself, no one was there to tell me it would be okay. When I was violated at a public school I had no one to tell, so now someone else will face the pain that I went through. When I finally told, no one thought it to be true. Despite my desperate pleading, I was accused of lying.

After an estranged mother became part of my life, things looked slightly brighter for the hurting little girl. The cuts on my arms and legs did heal, though the smoking did not stop. When I lost my mother once again, the wounds came back to life. When the man I called my father crossed a dreadful line, no one was there to dry my tears. And when it kept on happening, there was no love near.

Even in the darkest moments, I remembered that He is near. When I started failing school, He already had a plan. It was not just for my grades, but for my suffering. When those kind hearts took me in, I didn’t know what to expect. And when they never hurt me, I denied them every right. When they asked me if they could adopt me, I laid my life at His feet.
Now that I am happy, I look back and laugh. It may have not always been so cheery, but it was not lost. I had had no mother to comb my hair of dry my tears. I had had no father to lay down the law. Until that moment, I had only had Him. I even pushed him away, but he planned to give me so much more. Now I have a family with whom I share everything. I have parents to discipline and love me, and that is more than enough. I may have once been lonely, but He never left my side. Now I have the greatest life, that He has supplied.
My joy comes not from the joy of having parents to share the momentous occasions with. It comes from having parents to share the tiniest of accomplishments. My joy may seem petty, if you don’t know my story. However, through all the things in life I will not forget what He has done.
Why, I ask, don’t you appreciate the little things? All my life I had begged for them, yet so many seem to forget. If you forget again, I beg you to read my story and remember the little things.