Dear Balin:
This year, your birthday fell on a Saturday. You wanted to eat at Steak N' Shake for your birthday dinner. You demanded a Lightining McQueen cake with chocolate frosting. You wanted your friend Angel to come to your party, but sadly we forgot to invite him. You wanted a Dusty piñata, but changed your mind before we left the store, deciding you wanted a Lightining McQueen one instead. You didn't want the coloring books we picked out for your friends' goody bags even though they were Cars-themed, but despite the ups and downs of party-planning and then the party, you had a wonderful time.
As I look at old pictures of you, it's hard to believe you were once that chubby, sweet-faced baby because you've grown into such a little boy. A little boy with a wild imagination.
When I think about what Arthur will become, I never doubt that he will be employed in some aspect of building. (If he does not, I will be shocked.) But with you, I can't tell - not yet - because for you, the sky's the limit. You possess a gift for creative storytelling, for pretend, and for free-range play, much like the way my sisters and I played with our friends when we were young. We spent our time outside, creating elaborate fantasy worlds and characters, much like you do now.
I don't know what you'll be someday because you already are anything: a leopard seal, a sea lion, a ninja, a bounty hunter, a Jedi (or Sith!), a Jawa, Elsa...The list is as long as the rainbow, extending from one side to the next and then on to infinity. You see any situation as a possibility to become someone new by walking in their shoes for a little while. Having empathy is a gift; you have great quantities of it.
So, Balin, my dear boy, you are now four. You will be attending pre-K in the fall. You will be surrounded by other children and adults who won't always understand the kind of person you are, but you will also befriend many others who do. Continue to be who you want to be; no questions, no regrets.
Blessed be.
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