You are so precious. You are more than a piece of diamond packed in a thousand layers of bubble wrap and newspaper placed in a box full of foam with the word "fragile" written on it. God was the manufacturer and the courier. He sent me you. I was the recipient. I signed and received you, the package. I was ecstatic the moment my hands got a hold of the package. It was like a gift given during the Christmas season. As each day passed I got to know you. I unwrapped you little by little and was able to discover what you are made of. I was able to discover that the materials that the gift that was made of is of high quality. Your personality is made of steel. You have values made of diamond. But, you have a heart that's made of cotton. You as a gift is too good you taught me to be patient, to be generous and most of all, that not only mothers and family members can love someone unconditionally. I was supposed to take care of the gift. I was supposed to handle you with care. I was supposed to fix some parts that i noticed were scarred. But i was too happy-go-lucky, i was too careless i broke the gift. I broke you. You were broken. Broken into smaller pieces. You were hurt. You were taken for granted by the irresponsible recipient. She doesn't deserve such a great gift like you. But as the person made from a combination of steel and diamond that you are, you still have the large pieces of you. You continued to be strong. You still asserted that you are whole. You were still strong like what you have always been. I cried because one of the most precious gifts given to me was broken. I again tried to fix you, but I failed. It just made everything worse. I decided maybe it was time that I give you back to The Manufacturer. Maybe, He can fix you. I am sure He has the right tools and materials to fix you and make you real whole again. So i tried to wrap you and put you back in that box with the "fragile" still written on it, and then put a ribbon on it to make it presentable. I handed you back to The Delivery Man and Manufacturer. I was crying while I am handing you back to Him because it pains me to see the precious gift become far away from me. It was a decision I thought of for long, but I knew it's the best thing i must do because i cannot take the responsibility of handling it with so much care. I wish i could, but i cant. As I hand the gift back to Him, I whispered to His ears, "I am sorry I broke him. No words can express how i regret what i have done. But please, make him whole again. And please next time, give him to someone who truly deserves him, who can take care of him and would never have to return him back to You broken."
