I can still feel the grit of the shingles scraping my toes, the salty tears trailing down my cheeks. The promise, the hope of the stars — reflections of something bigger than me. Bigger than my one whispered request.

Little did I know that just five years later, I would find him. He would ride up on a white horse with four wheels and steal my breath while gently asking for my heart. He would see my soul, my mind, and love every inch of my awkward frame, erasing all of the painful words of childhood.

He would boldly defend my honor and reintroduce me to my Father, making me feel safe, cherished, loved.

He would ask for my hand in our favorite place away from home, and we would eat frozen raviolis every Thursday on the hand-me-down table we positioned right in front of the TV. At times it would seem there were more fights than laughter, but always – always — passion.

He would give me three beautiful girls, every one special and a wonderful surprise in their own way. The miracle of the first. The joy of the second. The blessing of the third.

Together, we would build our dream house, our home. A living memory box of three little girls giggling on the playroom floor, two humbled adults crying on their knees in the office, a family of five grateful for sleeping under one roof.

One little request, softly spoken, yet heard. Answered. Bringing more to my life than I ever imagined, more love than one star could hold.