Be You

I told you that it couldn't be done.  The stool was too little. The tree was too tall.  Your arms were too weak.  Your body was too heavy.  But you brought the stool over and stood there determined and defiant, yet still so small.  I walked away completely unconcerned, confident that minutes later you'd move on to the slide.

I hope to never forget the moment that I turned around and saw you on top of the tree.  With the tiny green stool beside it.  A feat no one would ever believe you had accomplished on your own, least of all me.  But you did it.  Because you believed in yourself.

Some days you never cease to annoy, but today all I felt was amazed.  I hope what you did today will be an accomplishment that you never forget.  I know it seems like I am always telling you to slow down, calm down, be quiet and be still.  In case I forget, years from now, today I will tell you when I tuck you into bed, that all you will really need to do to succeed in life is to continue to just be you.