Mothers and Daughters
I look outside and see the warm and welcoming beginning of summer. I look back at my blank piece of paper and wonder if there is such a thing as an artist’s block.
I look around my room for about the millionth time but can’t find anything I would like to draw.
I see all of my favorite things, but not one of them fit.
I slump on my bed.
I look around again and see my doll house.
I remember how proud my mom was as I hugged her and told her it was the best gift ever.
I open it up.
I see a miniature home.
I see a doll daughter and mother.
I see a tiny pink bedroom with lace and velvet. A four-poster bed with a canopy.
I remember playing with it for hours.
I decided it would be perfect.
I drew it, it didn’t look right.
I added some colour, but it needed something else.
I see my mom come up the stairs..
I see her look at my drawing.
“She’ll love it,” she says.
I hug her.