Finding your voice is something people spend their entire lives striving to accomplish. And, when you do, when you finally grow up to become the adult who has figured it all out (I’m still working on that at 40+.), who has found that inner voice that’s so loud and clear, resonating from within to say, “Yes, you’ve got this,” you find strength.

You feel strong. You realize you ARE strong. You feel empowered. Ignited. You’ve found your spark to light your way with clear vision, a north compass, fierce passion and, well, inner strength.

After a few decades of trying to navigate my own way, my six-year-old powerhouse of a daughter seems to have figured it out all out for herself.

During Tuesday night’s books this week, my husband read from one of our family’s favorites, one we’ve been reading since they were born: the timeless Where the Sidewalk Ends. They say poetry inspires. Well, this collection of poems certainly did that and, in turn, it’s our daughter’s work that offers an even greater sense of awe. No offense, Shel Silverstein. Actually, I say thank you to the late writer, one of the greatest, for providing the unsolicited prompt that motivated this Kindergartener to take pen to paper.

First, my husband read “Weightliftress.” This four line poem is about the mighty Nancy Bates.

Nancy Bates can lift those weights

As well as any feller.

If you don’t think it’s ladylike,

Then you go up and tell her!

Within seconds, our daughter said ‘Wait!’ and grabbed the book from her father’s hands. He let her be with the book and continued reading with our son. Meanwhile, she had felt an itch and scratched the surface. No less than a minute later, she handed the book back to him and said, “Here, now read this.”

It was a statement. It was a response to literature. It was her voice.

Right there, on the very same page as “Weightliftress” and – even more interestingly – “Don’t Tell Me,” which they had not yet read, was our girl’s first poem. Actually, she insists that it’s not a poem. “It’s just words people should read.”

Lisin

Written by ZMC (March 26, 2019)

Listen to girls,

Cuz they know best.

You know,

Because boys think girls are not strong.

She says that boys should read it.

She told me that when we donate it, the children who get the book will read it, too. (My ongoing attempt at raising grateful, charitable children – and Marie Kondoing my house and life – is in the form of sweeping through the house every few months and collecting everything in my path and donating it.)

I told her I’m never donating this one, baby. We’re keeping it forever. And I probably should send it to Gloria Steinem. And Oprah.

So all this being said about how amazingly thoughtful and articulate our girl is and how inspiring Shel Silverstein is and how meaningful book time with parents is (in this case especially with daddies and brothers), I’m also a little sad.

Why, at the young age of six years old, does my daughter already know that some boys think girls aren’t strong? There’s no good answer to that question.

However, she’s found her voice. Or…she’s finding it. Perhaps that’s a lifelong journey and hers has just begun.

Her voice: may it grow as she grows. May she know when to whisper, and may she know when to roar.

In a world like today’s, I pray that I do all I can as her mom to remind her to use that sweet voice of hers and to share it for good. I also pray that I remember to take it all in and, probably most importantly, that I hear her.

A new generation is rising, and it’s our job to lisin.