To a Dear Child

When I was a funny-looking three-year-old with weird eyes and cloth diapers, living on Thad street, you were born. I don't know what you were like, because I didn't know you then.

When I was a sort of awkward eleven-year old with big glasses and dumb-looking bangs, you were a little eight-year-old with a wide smile whom I didn't notice.

When we both grew up a few years, some girl named Rebekah Zellers invited my sister Melody over to swim. I didn't really know who this person was, and, I must admit, we didn't really want to, and were glad when it never worked out. (You didn't know that, did you, dear? I'm sorry. I was mean and stupid then. Praise the Lord He overcomes our natural nature and has grown my love to be more like His since then...) It was natural that you would want to be friends with Melody, for she was only a month older than you.

When I was a generally quiet senior high girl a few years later, and you were were a new junior high girl, when I still spelled Zellers with an a, we knew who each other was and sometimes talked, but I still didn't notice you much. Finally, when I was more like I am now, and you were too, as we went to Friday Night and started scrapbooking together, I began ever so slowly to come to my senses.

When I was twenty and you were sixteen, and when I was convicted by the Holy Spirit and you were a tool He used so strongly, I was finally really conscious of what you had been for years. I was blessed, and you were the blessing.

I am indeed three and half years older than you. But do you know why I put that you were turning sixteen, rather than seventeen? (Aren't you glad I can't sing that to you again?) It was something subconscious, but it wasn't because I think of you as younger than you are, but because I knew you were younger than you seemed to me, and because to me your age doesn't matter; three or four years is nothing, and though I am older, I look up to you. I look up to your leading, to your challenging in our relationship-your desire to grow in love for the Father, your knowledge of His word, and fear of the Lord.

I love your uniqueness, and our friendship. I love your beautiful singing, and that you teach yourself to play the mandolin. I love (and hate) that I can't stop talking to you, no matter how late it is, whether we're together or over Facebook. I love that you're the responsible one who finally makes us go to bed. I miss you if I don't see you a couple times a week, and even then. I enjoy your beautiful pictures, and appreciate that you challenge me in mine. Your never being content with where you are, but always striving to improve challenges me.

Your opinionated ideas on everything from colors to politics to music amuse me. I am amused-and usually benefit-as you freely state them, whether critiquing my writing or pictures or commenting on our kitchen floor or deciding what we should eat. That you pat people younger than you on the head and call them "child", your hilarious laughing fits, your dressing style, you thanking us for "accepting my invitation to your house," your "crush" on Bloomington...I love your idiosyncrasies.

I love how we like the same things in different ways; I love having a friend I can discuss words and characters and f-stops and 5D Mark ii and scrapbooking and musicals with. I love how talented you are in things that I like to do-photography, singing, writing, crafty stuff, colors. I hope that some day I am as good at one of them as you are now. I know I never will be for singing, or for colors and style.

I love that it's never awkward, whatever we say or whenever we say nothing, that you think I'm funny or cute or pretty or whatever silly opinion you have of me and that you love me even though I'm silly (as in foolish) and weird and probably annoy you.

I love how you make me reconsider my ideas by sharing yours. Great minds may not always think alike, but they do build off of each other. I love how you relate simple, mundane things to the Lord, unashamedly.

"As iron sharpens iron, so a man sharpens the countenance of his friend."

I am interested to see what God will do in your life this year, how you will grow in godliness and fear of the Lord, in favor with God and man. I know you will, because He has given you the desire, He is faithful, and I'm praying for you.

I thank God for your friendship, Cutie*, and I love you. Happy 17th birthday.

Love,
Meanie*


*For those of you who are snooping in this private letter-okay, okay, I know I posted it in a publicish forum-that's a joke, in case you were wondering. A true one, but that's what makes it funny.