Letters to My Daughter: Wishes

commonhumanity letterstomydaughter wishes Aug 09, 2022

Dear D,

This weekend I found myself tucked in amidst people from around the world on a narrow bridge, all of us leaning over the concrete rail to catch the best glimpse possible of the world-famous Multnomah Falls. I’ve been stopping here every chance I get for years, breaking up the long drive through the Columbia Gorge to skip up the trail and stand for a few minutes near the falls, feeling the cool mist hit my face.

What I had never done until this weekend’s visit was look down. Below the packed bridge, scattered over the mossy rocks covering the base of the stream, are hundreds, or even thousands, of coins. I leaned over the bridge for a while, gazing at the copper and silver discs glistening beneath the water, listening to people call to friends and family in multiple languages. And I started wondering how many of those coins represented wishes, and what people might have wished for.

You and I love to make wishes together. On our walks near the corner field, you often stop to pick a seeded dandelion, saying, “Let’s make a wish, Mama!” As I tried to imagine what desires and hopes and dreams might have been held in the hands that tossed those coins over the edge of the bridge, a smile played across my face as I remembered one of your wishes.

One afternoon last year when we were walking home from school, you blew the dandelion seeds with abandon and then looked at me. “Mama, know what I wished for?” Inside I was thinking you probably wished for dad to feel better or for your classmate not to get in trouble at school the next day. You surprised me, as you often do when I attempt to read your mind. “I wished people in the world would take care of each other.”

“You know there are people who don’t do that, Mama,” you explained, “and that’s not good.  Everyone needs to be taken care of.”

I don’t remember now what you had learned about in social studies that day, but I remember being amazed at the way you carried those human stories in your heart even as you skipped home with a half-eaten snack in your hand.

Standing on the bridge this weekend amidst a colorful sea of humanity, I wondered how many of the wishes represented by those coins sparkling beneath the bridge had something to do with a basic longing to be seen and cared for, or a desire to find meaningful ways to care for and support our fellow human beings.

 

A blessing:

May you never stop making wishes—small, immediate wishes; and grand, far-reaching wishes.

May you voice your wishes, to yourself, to a friend, to the world, and may it be a few years yet before the “but that’s not realistic” filter gets applied.

May you always embrace your longings with the same assurance you embody as you reach for those dandelions and pull.

And as the breeze effortlessly carries the tiny seeds away, may you find ease as you are both carried along, and carry others on life’s journey.

 

Author: Jody Washburn

 

Read previous Letters to my Daughter:

Letters to my Daughter: Voice

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