She held in her hand a box
With red ribbon tied just so
“This is yours,” she smiled kindly
Her face warmed by candle’s glow

She placed it gently in my hands
Finger tips brushing in exchange
I felt a heaviness in my heart
As the rooms were re-arranged

The box was fragile and delicate
Seeming to weigh nothing at all
Its content, I felt, is remarkably strong
That even the strongest could fall

I sat quietly beside the fire
Stared at the box and thought
How rare this gift from her must be
From a store it may not be bought

With care I tugged the ribbon free
Slowly set the lid aside
Eyes drawn toward the emptiness
Finding not a thing inside

But that’s not true, my eyes have lied
My heart instantly knew this gift
For as soon as the lid had been removed
I had felt my own heart shift

Safe and sound now in my charge
I remind her daily I am there
Her gift is held with love and reverence
Kept in my heart with utmost care

Caressed gently and repeatedly
With loving words for her to hear
With arms to hold her ever close
To calm her greatest fears

To adequately describe this gift
Where does this humble man start?
She has given me the most precious gift
She has given me her heart