They told me the present was a gift, but I didn’t believe them.
So different my life now compared to how it was then.
Always food in my stomach, a nice roof over my head*.
A gentle voice to remind me when it was time to go to bed.
The change that came,
Showed me what I didn’t know.
The doors I was blind to,
The places I could one day go.
Shined light to all my ease, magnifying what it pleased.
Some called it college, I called it adulting fees.
Because it was time to pay up,
To learn what it took.
To boil up the patience my parents would daily cook.
It was time to understand money didn’t grow from trees.
And to make it in this world would take a determination that could never cease.
And how true peace was uncovered in those times you found yourself on your knees.
And for tomorrow there really was no actual guarantees.
So I embraced this change and tackled those experiences I needed to learn alone.
Accepting the responsibilities, I had no choice but to own.
Confident that with my Heavenly Father by my side, I wasn’t just going to make it through.
But exude a love from above, that showed how he was with me too.
* This line originated from the notion that while I am still blessed to have food and shelter, it is no longer something that “appears” in-front of me as it did when I was a child. I have to pay rent if I want to remain in my apartment and go to the grocery store if I want to eat.