When I tuck my children in bed at night, I will tell them the things that no one told me.
I’ll tell them to fill their lives with so much goodness that the light can’t help but live in their eyes.
I’ll sing gentle words into their ears, just loud enough to hear, about how they are loved beyond comprehension.
I’ll tell my daughter that she is incredibly capable, that she is more than what people tell her she should be, that beauty and wit don’t define who a person is-they can’t even begin to.
I’ll tell my son that there is no shame in a man who cries, for tears are evidence that you have lived,
and felt,
and loved.
I’ll tell them that all the numbers and scores are not as important as falling in love with learning.
I’ll look into their questioning eyes and teach them to be compassionate towards the ones who will inevitably break their hearts.
I’ll tell them about you.
I’ll teach them to love so fiercely that they can’t help but fight for the underdog.
I’ll tell them to be passionate about the things that make them happy, without any reservations or the fear that comes from insecurity.
I’ll tell them to become complete on their own.
I’ll read to them so often that they’ll be able to recite the words in each of their favorite books from memory.
I’ll tell them to leave their own mark on the world.
I’ll teach them to believe in God,
To believe in themselves,
To believe in hope.
And each time I tuck them in,
I’ll turn off the light and close the door.                                      And I will wipe away a tear because I know that the things I will tell them,

The world won’t.