The gifts have been opened and played with. The wrapping paper has been thrown away. The cupcakes have been eaten and even the dishes have been washed. The guests have come and gone; exchanging lighter wallets from their trip for heads full of happy memories.One gift remains. One gift, from her first birthday, will not be opened for another two decades or maybe more. It's a letter. A letter from me to her. One each year, on her birthday. A letter telling her of all my hopes and dreams for her, of how I've watched her grow in change in the year just passed, and what I look forward to in the years to come. These letters are to be sealed and kept safe, until the time comes when she's about to leave her Daddy for another man. Then I want her to open them, one by one, a letter to her from the day of her birth up until the most recent birthday, and know that no matter what, I'll always love her and she'll always be my baby girl.
The figurine is for me, of sorts. There's one for each year, birth through 16. Eventually, when the letters are given and the baby girl is all grown up, the figurines will be mine to remind me of my baby girl, the one who used to come running to see me when I walked in the door from work, and the one whose world I could make just because I picked her up out of her crib.
The letter, figurine, and our own wedding cake topper.
1 comment:
This post made me about cry. My little guy is turning one in about a month. I have been writing him letters every now and then since he was born. They are typed on the computer and I am in process of putting them in a journal for him.
Also, when he was dedicated, we had any family members who wanted to write a letter to him that will be opened when he comes to know Jesus as his personal savior. (And probably looked at again as he gets older.)
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