I stand on top of the monkey bars on the playground, staring down at the rubber bits below. To my 6 year-old eyes, they looked so far away. But I felt the urge to go up there. Like I needed to. I told my mother this, and she seemed to understand.

And now, standing below me, her eyes were alight with excitement. "Jump Abby!"

"I'm scared," I reply, feeling like the ground was miles away.

"I will catch you," my mother says to me, holding her arms wide open for me.

"What if you miss? What if I fall?"

"Oh, my dear," she says lovingly. "What if you fly?"

I take a deep breath, filling my little lungs, before jumping off the monkey bars, straight for my mother's arms. But, before I went down even a foot, I felt something feathery sprout through my pink dress, lifting me off the ground, and causing me to soar over our car, and finally landing into my mother's welcoming arms.

I giggle as she cradles me like she did when I was a baby. "See, I told you you'd fly," she says to me lovingly, kissing my forehead.