Scraped up knees
And muddy boots;
Denim overalls
And the bow she shoots.
She’s known for climbing trees
And running loose;
Facing adventure with ease,
And putting her imagination to good use.
A little girl in a Big Boy’s world,
She always knew she didn’t fit in.
Trying to be like other girls felt like wearing somebody else’s skin.
She’d tried donning dresses, tried keeping her hair softly curled,
But felt much more comfortable as a cowboy with a bottle of gin,
Or as Bilbo Baggins’ long-lost twin.
Daddy never called her “Princess”,
Never referred to her as “Doll”.
Not because He saw her as anything less–
Because He knew she wouldn’t like that at all!
She’d never been your typical “Damsel in Distress”,
Never needed a Prince to climb any tower wall.
There was never a Knight in Shining Armor who could impress–
She’d leap from the tower herself, even if it meant a painful fall!
“Princesses don’t see enough action,”
She always would insist,
“They’re prissy and boring and helpless,
And always waiting around to be kissed!
I need adventure and excitement to be my distraction.
What others think, I couldn’t care less;
I don’t need a man in order to exist!”
Daddy always knew she wasn’t like the other girls,
But that she was happy with who she was.
He never saw her differences
As any sort of flaws.
Never would he exchange her boots and flannels
For the typical lace and pearls.
She was wonderfully perfect;
Her quirks never gave Him pause.
In fact, He loved them,
Celebrating them with boisterous and adoring applause.
She would much rather be a Pirate Captain,
Sailing the seven seas,
Than a maiden dressed in satin
Who startles at the sound of a sneeze.
Her heart was that of an Elven Warrior,
Renowned for her bravery and strength.
Unlike a princess who balked in horror
When faced with a difficulty of any length.
She was made to be a Viking Hero
Who helped save her country at war,
Not a foolish damsel whose experience is zero,
And who faints at the thought of gore.
A Superhero who battles against evil
And rescues this world from certain doom
Was much more appealing than a ballerina regal
Who sits waiting for her groom.
Even a Jedi Knight who dies in battle
Was a much better fate
Than that of the Queen of a castle
Who never steps beyond her front gate.
A zombie slayer, a vampire hunter–
That’s who she was, and wanted to be!
A princess’ average luxury and luster
Didn’t fit her adventurous fantasy.
She was a unique treasure, something rarely found,
And to be clumped in with all the rest would be to see her spirit bound.
The only Princess she’d ever been
Was a Space Princess who could hold her own.
Pink was never a color she’d be willingly caught in,
And she refused to become just another “basic girl” clone.
Daddy loved her different, and held her differently.
He wanted her to know that she was cherished,
And that He was always listening intently.
He would never call her “Princess”,
For she’d feel her dreams had perished,
So instead He called her “Captain”,
Speaking to her ever-so gently.
If she wanted to be a Pirate,
She knew she was free to be.
If today she chose the life of a Paladin,
She always knew her Daddy would see.
If she desired to become a zombie-fighting tyrant,
Daddy asked if he could join her team.
He’d help her train as a bow-wielding assassin,
And push her to be the best that she could be.
He would never change her
Or make her into something she was not.
He would meet her where she was,
And by His example, she was always taught
To be comfortable with who she was, and to always be sure
That what she did was done with excellence,
And to give everything honest thought,
So the battles she fought were always for the highest cause.
