To My Future Child

March 28, 2018
By kchen SILVER, Lambertville, Michigan
kchen SILVER, Lambertville, Michigan
5 articles 0 photos 0 comments

Honey, you have a big storm coming. A storm in the shape of impending responsibilities, uncontrollable emotions, and the unpredictable turns of events. We’ve aptly named this storm, Hurricane Life. Because yes, Life will whip through your hometown with 120 mile per hour winds and raging flood water, flying shrapnel and tropical thunder and leave nothing but footprints of destruction in its wake. But before the storm hits, before world momentarily comes to an end, I will prepare you, give you tools that you will use, not only to save yourself, but the ones you care about as well. I will arm you to the teeth with respect, courage, empathy, and acceptance. I will place kindness and humbleness in your clenched fists and ask that you wield them often. I will sharpen your blade of determination with the edge of work ethic, so you may cut down any obstacle in your path. Your sword will be confidence, both in yourself and in your actions. You will have a spear of imagination and integrity; a shield of forgiveness. I will load your double barreled hopes and dreams with my support, but I will also instruct you on dealing with the inevitable kickback of failure and disappointment. Your pockets will be loaded up responsibility, extra supplies of energy and excitement I will store in your backpack. I will shield your head with a helmet of positivity and laughter; guard your skin with an armor of independence and openness. Creativity will run through your veins, strengthening your limbs with the ability to imagine and believe. I will send you, my warrior of Life, onto the battlefield with every weapon at my disposal and nothing but my best wishes. But no matter how hard I train you, how much I try to prepare you, Life will find a way around your defenses. You are bound to fall, to scrape knees, and bruise arms, and damage yourself a little, but you are a fighter, a believer, and most importantly, my child. You will stand firm, you will adapt, and you will persevere, because you are stronger than any tool I place in your hand. You will live on, because of the weapons you forge on your own. From the weight of failure, you will emerge tenacious, from the fire of struggle, you will grow wiser, from the freezing sorrow you will be reborn stronger than ever before. I believe in you, not because I’ve armed you with every lesson and weapon I have, but because on your own, you are already the most powerful weapon there is.

The author's comments:

This is probably my favorite poem I've written so far. I wrote this on March 21, 2018. 

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