When it comes to being a parent, the word sacrifice gets used, well, let’s just say a lot. First we sacrifice our bodies, then our time, our sanity, our cars, and finally, our entire way of life. Let me just say that I don’t think sacrifice is the right word at all. The correct word is much shorter. It only has four letters. If I offend you with this, you should probably keep reading, the last letter of the word is T.
Yes, it’s a T. What four letter word ends with T? Keep reading. Children don’t choose to be born. In fact, they are often not planned or expected, and their timing could often be a lot better. For this, I reveal the second letter, an I. For I as a mother certainly had a role in my children being mine. Whether a person adopts, births, or somehow winds up with a child in their life, what they do with that child is certainly deserving of a four letter word containing the letter F.
Have you guessed it, or was the F confusing? Well maybe if I revealed the F as the third letter, this would all make more sense. The word is GIFT. What I give to my children could never be considered a sacrifice because it is a gift. I gift them my time, my health, my very life. And what is my reward? Yes, I know gifts aren’t supposed to be rewarded, but children haven’t learned the rules.
I get smiles with varying amounts of teeth. I get pounced on and hugged. I get less sleep and more worry. I get to see my children grow. I get to participate in everything they do. Who else gives that kind of trust and access to their lives? Mostly, I get them. They are worth twenty of me apiece. They are my gift and my reward.