I Trust You'll Treat Her Well
Author: Victor Buono
Author: Victor Buono
Dear World:
I bequeath to you today one little girl...in a crispy dress...with two
brown eyes...and a happy laugh that ripples all day long.. and a
flash of light brown hair that bounces in the sun when she runs.
I trust you'll treat her well.
She's slipping out of the backyard of my heart this morning...and
skipping off down the street to her first day of school. And never
again will she be completely mine.
Prim and proud she'll wave her young and independent hand this
morning and say "Goodbye" and walk with little lady steps to the
schoolhouse.
Now she'll learn to stand in lines...and wait by the alphabet for her
name to be called. She'll learn to tune her ears for the sounds of
school-bells...and deadlines...and she'll learn to giggle...and
gossip...and look at the ceiling in a disinterested way when the little
boy 'cross the aisle sticks out his tongue at her. And now she'll learn
to be jealous. And now she'll learn how it is to feel hurt inside. And
now she'll learn how not to cry.
No longer will she have time to sit on the front porch on a summer
day and watch an ant scurry across the crack in the sidewalk. Nor
will she have time to pop out of bed with the dawn and kiss lilac
blooms in the morning dew. No, now she'll worry about those
important things...like grades and which dress to wear and whose
best friends is whose. And the magic of books and learning will
replace the magic of her blocks and dolls. And now she'll find new
heroes.
For five full years now I've been her sage and Santa Claus and pal
and playmate and mother and friend. Now she'll learn to share her
worship with her teachers ...which is only right. But no longer will I
be the smartest woman in the whole world. Today when that school
bell rings for the first time...she'll learn what it means to be a
member of the group...with all its privileges and its disadvantages
too.
She'll learn in time that proper young ladies do not laugh out
loud...or kiss dogs...or keep frogs in pickle jars in bedrooms...or even
watch ants scurry across cracks in sidewalks in the summer.
Today she'll learn for the first time that all who smile at her are not
her friends. And I'll stand on the front porch and watch her start out
on the long, lonely journey to becoming a woman.
So, world, I bequeath to you today one little girl...in a crispy
dress...with two brown eyes...and a flash of light brown hair that
bounces in the sunlight when she runs.
I trust you'll treat her well.
I bequeath to you today one little girl...in a crispy dress...with two
brown eyes...and a happy laugh that ripples all day long.. and a
flash of light brown hair that bounces in the sun when she runs.
I trust you'll treat her well.
She's slipping out of the backyard of my heart this morning...and
skipping off down the street to her first day of school. And never
again will she be completely mine.
Prim and proud she'll wave her young and independent hand this
morning and say "Goodbye" and walk with little lady steps to the
schoolhouse.
Now she'll learn to stand in lines...and wait by the alphabet for her
name to be called. She'll learn to tune her ears for the sounds of
school-bells...and deadlines...and she'll learn to giggle...and
gossip...and look at the ceiling in a disinterested way when the little
boy 'cross the aisle sticks out his tongue at her. And now she'll learn
to be jealous. And now she'll learn how it is to feel hurt inside. And
now she'll learn how not to cry.
No longer will she have time to sit on the front porch on a summer
day and watch an ant scurry across the crack in the sidewalk. Nor
will she have time to pop out of bed with the dawn and kiss lilac
blooms in the morning dew. No, now she'll worry about those
important things...like grades and which dress to wear and whose
best friends is whose. And the magic of books and learning will
replace the magic of her blocks and dolls. And now she'll find new
heroes.
For five full years now I've been her sage and Santa Claus and pal
and playmate and mother and friend. Now she'll learn to share her
worship with her teachers ...which is only right. But no longer will I
be the smartest woman in the whole world. Today when that school
bell rings for the first time...she'll learn what it means to be a
member of the group...with all its privileges and its disadvantages
too.
She'll learn in time that proper young ladies do not laugh out
loud...or kiss dogs...or keep frogs in pickle jars in bedrooms...or even
watch ants scurry across cracks in sidewalks in the summer.
Today she'll learn for the first time that all who smile at her are not
her friends. And I'll stand on the front porch and watch her start out
on the long, lonely journey to becoming a woman.
So, world, I bequeath to you today one little girl...in a crispy
dress...with two brown eyes...and a flash of light brown hair that
bounces in the sunlight when she runs.
I trust you'll treat her well.
