There are two children who have been in my life for nearly their entire lives. I met them when the little girl was only eight months old—and their mom was pregnant with her baby brother. 

These two have spent countless days and nights with us over the years. They’ve stayed overnight more times than I can count, and I’ve been blessed to watch them grow into the remarkable young people they are today. 

My Sweetheart is a brave, talented, sweet, sassy, talkative young lady. Now 17, she’s come a long way in life and overcome so much. I’ve watched her shine in 4-H and rise to challenges with strength and grace. 

One of my favorite stories that captures her sass and spark happened when she was just two. One Sunday morning, she walked into my room while I was getting ready for church. She immediately got upset and demanded that I take off her pants. I looked at her, confused, and explained, “Sweetheart, these are my pants.” Not having it, she stormed off to my mom, threw a fit, and declared that I was wearing her pants. (Now, clearly a toddler’s pants were never going to fit me!) But to calm her down, I ended up changing anyway. Even she laughs about that story now. 

My Cowboy is kind and full of heart. At 16, he’s grown tall and strong—and has become such a hardworking young man. I’m so proud of him and the way he’s excelling at barrel racing with his horses. 

One memory that always makes me smile goes back to when he was a toddler. Like all siblings, he and his sister would bicker sometimes. He was a hefty little guy and had no clue just how big he really was. So, when he had enough of his big sister picking on him, he’d trip her and sit on her. She couldn’t get up, and he would just grin from ear to ear, so proud of himself. 

I cherish the memories of living room campouts, where we’d fall asleep watching movies… of pillow fights, tickle tortures, and special toys they knew would be waiting for them at my house. I remember summer days spent swimming in the pool, splashing at the pad, running around the park, playing in the creek, visiting the library, grabbing snow cones, or catching a movie. 

Now, I may not get to see them as often as I used to, but I still love them every bit as much. I treasure every call from Sweetheart asking for help with a church lesson… and every Facebook post about Cowboy stopping to pray before a ride. 

They may not be my children by blood, but they are etched on my heart forever. I am so proud of the people they are becoming, and I hope they always know: I’m here. Always.