The littlest spirit guide

There is a magic lake. It holds an island. In this lake are magic fish. Pink. Green. Kissing ankles.

One day the littlest spirit guide came to the lake. Her name is Hannah and she is 8. She is highly sensitive and soulful. She sits by herself near the woodstove and reads a book or draws a picture. She wants to set a celebration table with her spirit-aunt and build a fire with her spirit-uncle equally as much and usually the fire wins.

There is a magic lake. He said, "this is our place."

There is a magic lake. She said, "Hannah (me), do you know why the lake house is magic?"

I stood on the deck of the place that feels more like home than any place ever in the world, that holds my favorite people in the whole world.

I spread the table cloth over the other table cloth with her. "Why baby? Why is it magic?"

There is a magic lake. He told me that he wants me to be there with the people I love the most. He taught me how to drive a boat. He tells me I deserve the life that is unfolding and I struggle to believe him and I want to push so hard. So hard.

"It is magic because of the fish... and the people."

And she asks if I will sit next to her at the celebration dinner.

There is a magic lake. One day it will hold a family becoming. And I tell him what the littlest spirit guide said about the magic. It is the people.

The people.

There is a magic lake. And a magic lake house on the lake.

He gave us the gift of the time on the lake of his love of his generosity of his gratitude of his sacrifice of his dream of this lake.

We promise him magic. I promise him space to iterate into his becoming. We promise him our hearts as we grow into an extended family of magic. We have all known each other years in minutes.

There is a magic lake. And a magic lake house on the lake. And a man who makes the world more beautiful every time he smiles. And his laugh lifts everyone he touches up to joy. And the littlest spirit guide who changes us through her knowing and her sensitivity and her sadness at saying good-bye.

And I sat on the stairs of the magic lake with my coffee the morning after I told him I loved him. And I prayed. Deeper than I have ever prayed before. And she danced on the wall of the magic lake while we swam on the magic rock in the magic lake. And she stared at that fire deeper than she has ever stared before.

There is a magic lake. And a magic lake house on the lake. And a man and woman and fish and little spirit guides. And all the people who love the man and the woman and the fish and the little spirit guides.

Inside of the space she promises him so they may grow into their love she knows that she has found home.

In the people. The people. Who make the magic. Who are the love. Who promise her she can do this. Who promise her she deserves this.

And when I walked back from the magic lake with the empty coffee cup, after the prayers that changed my next steps, I layed next to him. And he buried his head in my hair and whispered, "I love you."

There is a magic lake. And everything is new. And scary. And turned-on. And changing.

The littlest spirit guide plans her return to dance on the wall and make the fire and set the table. We wait for her magic. Her awe. Her knowing that the magic is the people.

There is a magic lake. There is a magic lake house on the magic lake. And a story only just beginning to be written.