A Letter for my Daughter

I was cleaning out some old paperwork and came across this letter that I wrote to Jordyn this past August. I was at a friend's cottage, and was just enjoying the sun and fresh air -- this is what I wrote:


Dear Jordyn,

Today, a butterfly came to visit. I watched it flying on the beach, and it looped and flopped in great circles. She must have been tired, because she came and sat on a clump of grass right beside me. As she caught her breath, I had a chance to take a good look -- a beautiful Monarch, black and orange, with the most delicate specks of white.
One day, you will see such a butterfly, and I bet you'll chase it. Maybe you'll call it - "Come here, Butterfly, and play with me!" I'll remind you to be gentle, that butterflies don't particularly like playing with little girls. You'll say, "Oh, Mama, I'm always gentle."
I'll teach you about butterflies. How they start out as caterpillars, rest in their cocoons for awhile, and then emerge as butterflies. You'll say, "How do they do that Mama? Why?" I'll tell you it's the way they are.
I won't tell you yet that little girls are like butterflies too. When you come home to me, you will be transforming from a caterpillar into a butterfly. What kind will you be?
I won't tell you yet that little girls in Canada are lucky, because they can become caterpillars and butterflies many, many times in their lives. I hope I can teach you how to move slowly and cautiously, like a caterpillar. How to take time to rest, think, and change. How to emerge as a beautiful butterfly time and time again, as you grow from baby, to child to woman.
I'm going to watch butterflies a lot more carefully from now on.

Love, Mama