Write a poem about a gift you received.

My first ever school based aide-
the person I would in later life call a PCA-
invited mom and me to come to a Christmas era
celebration with her husband and trio of daughters.

I w-sat six year old behind parked between legs-
How was I too know that in three mere years, post surgery,
I would never assume familiar position again-
as I unwrapped package and found stuffed, cartoon beaver,
just perfect for a little girl deep in personal
Shirt Tales Saturday morning obsession.

I name him Smile,
because that’s what the tag on the back
of his shirt said.

I take him to bed with me that night
and most nights until I am 12,
accept if I forgot him at either home
or grandma’s house.

I take him to arts camp
the summer I am 15
and enjoying 5 weeks of personal freedom.

Three years later,
he, of course, comes
to college occupying permanent space
in closet.

Today,
he lives in perceptually closed secondary closet,
a bit of childhood I refuse
to outgrow.