They grow up big and strong. They start out so frail, but strengthen and branch out, reach for the sky and extend their roots. The wind may blow and shake them; the sun may dry them out. But they are resilient, determined. To live. To spread out. To BE. And the same is true of you, little man. You are so small now, at the very start of your mighty climb upward toward the infinite stretch of blue, and perhaps even beyond, that we all sought in youth. Keep reaching. Grab the clouds. Seize the moon. Kiss that sun.
