For my grandchildren, I would like so much more. I would really like for them to know about hand-me-down clothes and homemade ice cream and leftover meat loaf sandwiches ...
|Playing in the Mud and Loving it|
To my Precious Grandchildren:
[Edited by CJ Heck]
I hope you learn humility by being humiliated, and that you learn honesty by being cheated.
I hope you learn to make your own bed, rake the leaves, mow the lawn and wash the car. And I'm sorry, but I really hope no one gives you a brand new car when you turn sixteen.
It would be good if at least one time you can see puppies born and your old dog put to sleep.
I hope you get a black eye fighting for something you honestly believe in.
I hope you have to share a bedroom with your younger brother or sister. And it's all right, if you have to draw a line down the middle of the room, but when they want to crawl under the covers with you because they are scared, I hope you will let them.
When you want to see a movie and your little brother or sister wants to tag along, I hope you'll allow them to come along.
I hope you have to walk uphill to school with your friends and that you live in a town where you can do it safely.
On rainy days when you have to catch a ride, I hope you don't ask your driver to drop you two blocks away, so you won't be seen riding with someone as uncool as Mom or Dad.
I hope you learn to dig in the dirt and, after a hard rain, make mud pies and splash in the puddles.
I hope you can watch a thunderstorm from your front porch and lie in the grass at night counting stars and making hundreds of wishes.
I hope you'll climb a tree and build a tree house, and if you fall out, get back up and climb it all over again.
I hope you'll always find time to get lost in a book and if it's sad, that you'll cry out loud.
I want you to learn to use computers, but I hope you will also learn to add and subtract in your head ...
I hope you get teased by your friends when you have your first crush, and when you talk back to your mother, you'll learn what ivory soap tastes like.
May you skin your knee climbing a mountain.
May you burn your hand on a stove and stick your tongue on a frozen flagpole just one time, so you'll learn to never do either again.
I don't care if you try a beer once, but I hope you don't like it. And if a friend offers you dope or a joint, I hope you realize he is NOT your friend.
I hope you make time to sit on a porch swing with Grandma, go fishing with Grandpa, and ice skating on a pond with your Uncle.
May you feel sorrow at a funeral and joy during the holidays.
I hope your mother punishes you when you throw a baseball through your neighbor's window and that she hugs and kisses you at Hannukah, or Christmas, when you give her a plaster mold of your hand.
These things I wish for you -- tough times, disappointment, hard work, but most of all, happiness. To me, it's the only way to truly learn about and appreciate life.
Written with a pen.
Sealed with a kiss.
I'm always here for you.
... and if I die before you do, I'll go to heaven and watch over you.
[Original Author Unknown]
"A writer soon learns that easy to read is hard to write." ~CJ Heck