I got up and poured myself a glass of water, mulling over my life. I hoped the next few weeks would be good ones, filled with happiness and revenge, delicious revenge. Startled by my own anger, I quickly drank the cool water and wondered if water would ever be able to quench the fire burning inside of me. As I considered this, a loud thud nearly gave me a heart attack and I finally realized how jumpy I have become.

I saw a pink hand reach around the corner and slowly my little Amy emerged. She wore her light blue dress covered in small flowers and a look of worry.

??"Momma!" she exclaimed. "There's a weird noise inside my bedroom, come see!"

??At that, she turned on her heel and started walking to her room, arms extended, face filled with determination. I sighed and got up, putting away the glass and then marched down the hallway. I entered her bright purple room filled with fairies, magic, loathing and love. ??Sitting down on the bed, I took Amy's' hand and gave it a squeeze, conveying as much comfort as I could. She turned, faced me, and asked

"So do you hear it Momma? It's like a zapping noise!"

??I listened and promptly heard it. A silent buzz. I quietly chuckled and swept Amy into my arms. She stared blankly through her sunglasses, yet the creases in her forehead and the pursing of her lips showed her anxiety. I kissed her forehead and she relaxed a bit.

"Amy you're one silly little girl." I told her.

We sat there for a moment, then I asked "I was thinking, maybe later we could sign you up for that special dancing class?" I asked.

Amy beamed, revealing her missing front teeth as well as her excitement.

"You'll have to get private lessons, which may actually be better than being in a room filled with smelly dancers." I joked and wrinkled my nose for emphasis.

She giggled and replied "That will be fun Momma!"

"So where are your dancing shoes? The black ones." I innocently ask.

Her smile leaves her face faster than I could say her name. She leaves my arms and goes to the closet, opening it up and getting down on her knees. Worried, I ask her what she is doing. For a minute or two she pulls miscellaneous items off the shelf and she tosses them aside. All the while she is grunting from frustration.

I am completely flabbergasted as to what she is doing, and when she starts sobbing I quickly go to her and pick her up. I take off her sun glasses and she cries silent tears into my shirt. I try calming her, knowing this has something to do with her father. This leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. I sit there on the floor in the middle of the room and rock her, waiting for my daughter to speak, waiting for her to vent all that she needs to.

Surprisingly, she asks: ??"Momma, do I have to like Daddy?"

??She squeaked this out as her hands raised to her empty eyes. ??

Stunned, I responded "No sweetie, that's your choice. We have talked about this before, you don't have to to talk to him or even like him. I don't want him hurting you again. Why?"

??"Well," she stammered out, "I overheard him talking about me to that other lady, and he doesn't like me very much. He said mean things about my glasses and my eyes, and he said I won't be a good dancer when I get big so he threw away my shoes." ??

She started crying again so I held her closer. My heart ripped with each sob.??

"God, Amy, don't listen to him. He doesn't know what he's talking about. You are an amazing little girl, and don't you forget that. I promise I will buy you the best pair of shoes they have at the store."

I managed to stutter out. She nodded and put her arms around my neck.?? We sat in silence for awhile and during that time, we could've been the only people left on Earth, and neither of us would've minded. Holding her against my chest while I gently rock back and forth filled me with so many different emotions I couldn't keep up.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, I said, "Hey, I got a surprise that might cheer us up. Would you like a surprise sweetie?"??

She sniffed and nodded, so we both got up and I grabbed an empty jar. Walking over to the corner of the room, near a broken picture and a blood stain, I undid the cap of the jar and reached out. A small, yellow and black bee became caught in my jar, so I quickly covered it and tightened the lid. ??

"Amy," I called, "come over here, I have your surprise." ?

?She carefully felt her way over to me and reached her arms up in my direction. I gave her the jar and she moved her small fingers around it. Curious, she asked what it was. ??

"It's a bumble bee. He was making that zapping noise earlier." ??

Amy smiled a little and put her ear up to the jar to listen. However, her smile suddenly faded. She put the jar on the floor and felt her way back to the bed. ??

"What's wrong Amy?" I asked as I followed her. "Are you still thinking about Daddy?"

??She silently nodded. I got to my knees and looked up at her, sadness clearly written all over her face as tears started streaming. I reached over and picked up the jar, handing it to my little angel.

??"Amy this little bee is inside of a jar and he can't do much about that. But that doesn't mean he isn't a precious, caring, cute little bee. He is still a wonder of nature. The jar is not a handicap, and neither is your blindness. This little bee can do anything and everything; dance around the kitchen, draw pictures, anything. Just like you."

??At this, Amy smiled a small, innocent smile, and took the jar in her hands, feeling the cool glass. I removed her glasses, wiping the tears away from her eyes carefully, yet finding tears streaming down my own face. I tried to think of something, anything to keep that smile on her face.

Finally, with my heart slowly rebuilding itself from my love for Amy, my dedication to her, and the unbreakable bond between us, I quietly whispered to her,

??"Don't you ever forget: beauty is in the eyes of the bee holder."