My son, as your sweet breath caressed my face and your tiny fingers spread open on your pillow, for you I said a prayer.
I prayed that you would grow up to be a champion.
I realize the magnitude of the responsibility placed upon me to ensure that your place in this world is well defined.
As you grow up to be a young boy, a young man--a man who will one day raise his own family,
I prayed that you will be strong, be courageous, and be brilliant.
My son, I pray that you would grow up proudly yet not in arrogance;
I pray that you'll let your voice be heard without being loud and boisterous.
I pray that you'll see victory in your every effort without becoming a victim of your circumstances;
I pray that you'll be a leader and a change agent without becoming an outcast;
I pray that truth will be your mantra.
I pray that you'll be a champion for truth and justice without the incarceration of fear and shackles of mental slavery;
I pray that your very presence in this world commands respect and not require an explanation,
I pray that love and peace radiate from you and destroy the gloom
My son, these are the things I prayed...while you were sleeping.