My middle child, my youngest son, my baby boy, my graduate.
We struggled to have you. You were a gift from God. Even after your arrival, there were complications. You were re-hospitalized at five days old. If we had waited any longer, you would not have survived. We were terrified, but God watched over you. We brought you home and you began to thrive.
You were all boy.
You liked to rough house; you liked climbing.; you liked to “explore”; you ran before you walked. You had your first stitches when you were thirteen months old because you were running through the house on Mother’s Day. You were always on the go.
You are a hard worker.
You have worked mowing lawns since you were five. You worked on our farm. You raised pumpkins, gourds, and flowers to sell. When you turned sixteen, you went and applied for your first “real job”. You kept checking back until they hired you. You were determined to get that job. You worked hard and it was noticed. You became a manager when you were seventeen. A few months later, right after your eighteenth birthday, you got another promotion.
You have matured in life, but most of all, you have matured in Christ.
You have always loved God. You accepted Christ as your Lord and Savior at a very young age. When I could not get you to read anything else, you would always read your Bible. You are the one that always reminds us to pray before we eat if we get in a hurry and forget. You talk to your friends about their relationship with Christ. You set a good example for others and always try to do the right thing.
Your father and I are so proud of the man you have become. We love you and cannot wait to see what God has in store for your future.
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