Minguel s.o. Pascual

On the 6th of July, seventeen years ago, a darling little boy came into my life.

His name is Minguel.

I was speechless when his parents asked me to be his godmother. I was all of eleven years old and technically, not the right age for the job. But my uncle and aunt were set - they wanted Minguel's godparents to be closer to him in age, thereby understanding him better and being his friends first.

When we went to see the newest budle of joy gifted to our family, my uncle took me out into the hospital corridor and said he wanted to ask me something. My mum and dad were there, grinning from ear to ear - they already knew. I think back now, to all those years ago - I didn't really understand the importance and preciousness of the moment. I hugged my uncle and said yes and then went back to my aunts room and hugged the new mommy. Now, my heart grows heavy with pride as I remember those moments.

Minguel was christened soon after and I remember writing a poem for him then, my little godchild. He ruled my world and life revolved around him eating, drinking milk, burping, peeing, farting - babies, I tell you!

He was 2 before I knew it. I watched him eat shawarmas, sing little songs, pronounce my name 'mondala' - I still don't get that, but I loved it! His folks let his hair grow just a bit and he had the cutest little pony tail!

One of my favorite memories of him is when Dad and I got back home one evening and we saw Minguel and his Dad in the distance, getting back from the supermarket (we lived in the same building). It was dark, so at first he wasn't sure who we were. Then he heard my voice and te realisation that struck!! My little munchkin came running towards me, in that adorable way that only little kids do and he leapt into my open arms, as if I had just gifted him all the candy in the world.

Let's just say that if I wrote about my memories of the little Minguel, it would be full of exclamations and smileys!! He's a special lil' guy who holds, no...owns, a special part of my heart.

His family have since then migrated to a new country. Minguel has grown up there, but when I speak to him on the phone, he is still the same boy with a heart of gold. He's ridiculously tall and wears glasses. He loves football and a ton of other sports. He's a good student and a good son. And no matter how old he gets, he'll always be my godchild.

He'll always be my little pony tailed angel, named for a grandfather I never met, but belonging to a boy I'll always love.

Happy 17th Birthday, my little one.