Sophie's Choice

“Psst...God – it’s only Sophie,” the little girl said,
as she knelt at the end of a small, wooden bed.
“I’m hoping you can hear me, as I’m having
to whisper, on account I might disturb
my newborn baby sister.

Tomorrow’s my birthday, and guess what, God?
I’m six...and I’d really like a dolls’ house
’cept I shouldn’t ask for things. I put it on my list,
though, but Dad says we’re broke, that’s why
it’s down to you, God, you’re my last ditch hope.”

She woke next morning, early, combed her hair,
and brushed her teeth...tiptoed down the stairs,
missing out the one that creaked. Found a parcel
in the kitchen, on the table, tied with string,
as she ripped the paper open, her small heart
skipped a beat.

Putting both her hands together, and kneeling
on the floor, said, “Remember me?
It’s Sophie, God...we’ve spoken once before,
which is why I want to thank you. It’s a super
dolls’ house, God!” Fashioned out of love...
and an old cardboard box.