Not a Blueprint: It's the Shoe Prints That Matter

As the tears ran down our faces, we knew China deserved better than what life was offering. There she was, a child who hadn’t begun to experience life nor become exposed to real womanhood. Still, she’d have to struggle to gain a winning hand. Dr. Hacker decided to go ahead with the surgery, vowing to remove both ovaries only if necessary. While the surgery lingered on, I paced
back and forth, drinking coffee after coffee. Each time a surgeon came in the waiting room, I feared their presence, wondering if China had made it through. Watching the clock tick slowly, I watched Dr. Hacker working to pull China through. With sweat rolling down her brow and face, there stood the lady in her white jacket. She bore an even darker skin complexion with her thick blackish-brown hair pulled back in a bun style. Once I rose, she brushed her left hand across her forehead to wipe the sweat from her brow.

“Good news, the surgery was a success. China has pulled through just fine. I only had to remove one ovary. She still has one for her childbearing years. We’re moving her to the recovery room now, and you can go back to see her.”

As I looked down at China’s helpless body, I could see her innocence. It gave me a feeling of pride to know her body was untouched. Wow, she was still a virgin! My daughter of sixteen years had chosen not to explore those womanly desires. Perhaps it was the guidance she respected with the nurturing of a mother’s love.