Letter to A Child I Haven't Met Yet
To my child:
It will be years before you read this. The fact is that you're not born yet, maybe not even conceived. I don't know when we will get the call from your birthmother asking about what kind of people we are so, waiting, I imagine what kind of person you will be.
And I wonder what kind of world it is into which you will be born and raised. As I write this, our country wobbles on the edge of an unjust war, our economy is a wreck and the freedoms that I and all the adults who will know and love you were raised to expect are being eroded. By the time you read this, the very water you drink could be sold to you by a company far away that cares only about profit. I try to be hopeful about the future, but right now I'm fearful.
I understand now how some folks can want to not bring a child into a world plagued by war, but I can't share their feelings. To be honest, your mother and I need you. There is something basic in people that hopes for a better future, and you are, or will be, the embodiment of that for us. The knowledge that there are hundreds of thousands of children in Iraq this morning who represent that same hope for their parents, yet who are sick for lack of medicine or in grave danger of being killed when this invasion starts, keeps me awake at night.
By the time you read this letter, all this will be either ancient history or part of your current reality. You will have your own set of issues as you become conscious of the world around you, and with luck, we will have raised you to be a questioning, thinking person, capable of getting past the fog of dubious news and opinion with which we are bombarded every day. No matter what I say as I get older and crankier, hold on to your dreams and what you know to be right and never, ever let anyone tell you to shut up and sit down.
Love,
Dad
