Tina Fey, aktris yang kocak itu, membuat sederet doa untuk putrinya. doa yang detil, yang kalau dipikir-pikir, benar juga ya, kita harus jelas maunya apa, dan kita tunggu Allah bekerja :)
Saya ngambil Gambar dan tulisan ini di webnya Melody Godfred (di web lain juga banyak sih), silakan buka di web Write in Color. Tulisan ini sebenernya ada di bukunya Tina Fey, Bossypants, sayang belum ada di Indonesia :(
First, Lord: No tattoos. May neither Chinese symbol for
truth nor Winnie-the-Pooh holding the FSU logo stain her tender haunches.
May she be Beautiful but not Damaged, for it’s the Damage
that draws the creepy soccer coach’s eye, not the Beauty.
When the Crystal Meth is offered, May she remember the
parents who cut her grapes in half And stick with Beer.
Guide her, protect her
When crossing the street, stepping onto boats, swimming in
the ocean, swimming in pools, walking near pools, standing on the subway
platform, crossing 86th Street, stepping off of boats, using mall restrooms,
getting on and off escalators, driving on country roads while arguing, leaning
on large windows, walking in parking lots, riding Ferris wheels,
roller-coasters, log flumes, or anything called “Hell Drop,” “Tower of
Torture,” or “The Death Spiral Rock ‘N Zero G Roll featuring Aerosmith,” and
standing on any kind of balcony ever, anywhere, at any age.
Lead her away from Acting but not all the way to Finance.
Something where she can make her own hours but still feel intellectually
fulfilled and get outside sometimes And not have to wear high heels.
What would that be, Lord? Architecture? Midwifery? Golf
course design? I’m asking You, because if I knew, I’d be doing it, Youdammit.
May she play the Drums to the fiery rhythm of her Own Heart
with the sinewy strength of her Own Arms, so she need Not Lie With Drummers.
Grant her a Rough Patch from twelve to seventeen. Let her
draw horses and be interested in Barbies for much too long, For childhood is
short – a Tiger Flower blooming Magenta for one day – And adulthood is long and
dry-humping in cars will wait.
O Lord, break the Internet forever, That she may be spared
the misspelled invective of her peers And the online marketing campaign for
Rape Hostel V: Girls Just Wanna Get Stabbed.
And when she one day turns on me and calls me a Bitch in
front of Hollister, Give me the strength, Lord, to yank her directly into a cab
in front of her friends, For I will not have that Shit. I will not have it.
And should she choose to be a Mother one day, be my eyes,
Lord, that I may see her, lying on a blanket on the floor at 4:50 A.M.,
all-at-once exhausted, bored, and in love with the little creature whose poop
is leaking up its back.
“My mother did this for me once,” she will realize as she
cleans feces off her baby’s neck. “My mother did this for me.” And the delayed
gratitude will wash over her as it does each generation and she will make a
Mental Note to call me. And she will forget. But I’ll know, because I peeped it
with Your God eyes.
(aamiin)
