Dear Ittybit,

I can’t believe you are six.

Didn’t we just get home from the hospital with you, a tiny bundle, swaddled against the bitter cold?

Didn’t I just watch you take your first steps? Say your first words?

I am a cliché.

But you are an original. And you made me a mother on this day, six years ago.

And since then you’ve been changing my world in ways I never could have imagined. You’ve been making me think about the world, and how we live in it; you’ve been making me think about what it is that’s really important in life, not just what we get hung up on. Because of you I live in a strange world of heightened anticipation; a world of fear and wonder.

It only sounds bad when you’ve never visited there before.

When I look at your face – even when you scrunch it into an expression of displeasure – I can’t imagine being anywhere else. You bring joy to that place.

You also bring love, compassion and sensitivity; things I hoped you would possess innately.

Recently we read “The Giving Tree” together. At the end you started to cry.

“I don’t like that man. He just took and took and took. … Why do humans have to be so selfish?” you wondered.

The only answer I can muster is “We don’t have to be … that’s what this story is telling us. We can be more like the tree.”

When I look at you I have hope. I believe, again, in the power of youth and idealism. I believe that you will leave this place better than you found it.

And I feel peaceful.

Happy birthday, little growing girl. You've made the world a better place already.

Love,

Mommy