A Letter to a Child

I wonder if you would recognise me today.

I still have your eyes and, perhaps, a little of your stubbornness. But I also carry things you haven't learned yet—the quietness that comes with growing up, the tears hidden behind smiles, and the memories of people and moments that cannot be brought back.

If I could sit beside you today, I wouldn't tell you what the future holds. I would simply hold your hand and listen to your little stories.

I would tell you not to grow up too quickly.

Run without worrying about how you look. Laugh without wondering who is listening. Hold your mother's hand a little longer. Sit beside your grandmother a little longer. Treasure the ordinary days you think will last forever.

They won't. Believe me, they won't.

One day, those ordinary moments will become the memories you would give anything to relive.

You will make mistakes. You will lose people. You will sometimes feel lost. There will be days when you look in the mirror and wonder if you are enough.

Please remember—you always were.

The world may teach you to become strong, but don't let it make you hard. Cry when you need to. Love deeply. Forgive yourself. Keep that softness in your heart, even when life gives you reasons not to.

And when you feel lost, look back at the little girl you once were—the girl who believed in impossible things and found happiness in the smallest moments.

She is still inside you.

She has simply grown quieter.

With all the love I wish I could have given you then,

From the girl who grew up carrying you inside her.