My day began with a heart-clenching moment standing in my kitchen bleary-eyed, warming my hands around my first cup of coffee. My adoptive daughter, who at age 6 has lived here half her lifetime, asked me to help her pour the cereal.

For the very first time.

She didn't hint obliquely and wait for me to figure it out. She didn't whisper or whine. She didn't demand rudely. She didn't just try to do it by herself and make a mess.

She treated me like any other kid who wants their mom to pour the cereal from the giant, awkward box for her. So, she asked for help. Naturally. Without hesitation or angst.

It has taken three years to get to this point of trust and connection. I don't think people know that asking for help is the most difficult thing to do. But what is the quintessential thing that defines a mother-child relationship? The mother is the one the child turns to for help. Because if she can't ask me for help then what am I? An orphanage director? After all, I make all the rules and control everything in her home. If I do all of this without a mother-child bond than am I any different than a prison guard?

Today my daughter moved our relationship further along the spectrum from patron-ward to mother-child. I am grateful.