dear squirts,

i bought us a copy of winnie the pooh the other day. i say “us” because i haven’t read it but promise to read it to you once upon a time in the land of someday. we’ll have secret toast and tea and honey and marmalade and loll about on the grass like heathens. once we finish pooh we’ll read another; there are lots of books we need to read and there’s no time like the present.

i’m afraid you’ll have to put up with my eccentricities. i will likely talk to you as if you’re an adult even when you haven’t started speaking english yet. don’t worry; it will help you catch on. then we can tackle such things as german and latin and we’ll really know english well.

there’s the matter of your names, of course. they’ll be a trifle unusual. not to worry — we’re not like everybody else, so why should we be named like  everybody else?

and dirt. you can eat a little of it. it wouldn’t do to make your whole diet soil, naturally, but i won’t have you being afraid of the earth. it’s there to explore just as much as everything else, the trees and flowers and butterflies. and grass. let’s lie down on our stomachs and be quite still and look at all the tiny kingdoms hidden in its blades. i am amazed by something every time i hold eye-level conversation with the grass.

then there’s the captain of our adventures. he’ll be wonderful — you’ll see. he’ll be brave and have a jolly laugh. also i hope he’ll be good at mathematics and can explain to you what covalent bonds are and how to remember mitosis from meiosis.

we are at home but not at home here, darlings. this world is noble and beautiful and filled with wonders, but also it is desolate, dismayed and damned. it awaits its remaking, just as we ought. meanwhile we are lights in the shadow and fragrance in decay. the greatest adventure we have is to walk hand in hand with He who made all things and is making all things new.

don’t forget that, my dears, in the midst of all the joys and sorrows, horrors and delights life will bring you.

love now to then,