She walks into a room like a hurricane of confidence
While others, slump in, afraid of drawing attention to themselves.
Its not like that though.
She doesn’t cry out for attention
Rather her personality demands

She isn’t the kind to waste away
Her laugh demands a reply of a smile
and
Her eyes demand yours

She wants and works and receives

She’s like mother nature, the way she moves
She rooted to the ground, like an old oak tree:
swaying in the wind, with a breeze of a smile

Sometimes I think she most have not been raised like others
Its like fear was never installed into her mind
and
faith was always on her lips, since the day she was born

When other inquire about her:
who she is
and
ask why
and
don’t understand

I reply:

“Though she be but little, she is fierce”