Look at you, dear cousin.

A new creature in the world, and probably curious to see what it has in store, judging from your sparkling eyes. They’re beautiful, you know, like dew or a winking, playful star. They light up every time you discover something new, which is quite often seeing as almost everything’s new to you. They’re eager little things, always looking, always examining.

I put my finger into your reaching hand. Your hand, it’s so tiny; your fingers, they’re so minute. Your hands, your feet, indeed your whole body, has a softness to it. You’re new, you haven’t yet felt the world as I have, even in my short years. The world hasn’t thrown you curveballs, burdened you with crosses; you haven’t been scarred, lied to, cheated, tempted, jaded, had your heart broken.

But the world’s not all bad. There’re games to play, mountains to climb, rivers to cross; there’re adventures to be had, things to learn, friends to discover.

It’s a big world out there.

It’s not an easy trip, but you’re going to love it.