Letter to My Six Year-Old Self

Dear Mandi,

Today is Saturday September 6, 1984. It is 10 o’clock at night but you’re probably still awake, because your home is alive with baby noises. Your brother and sister are almost four months old. Don’t worry, they won’t always cry this much…

Life has been busy this year! You have moved from your hometown to a new town in a new state. The language seems altogether foreign, although your new teachers are extra nice. You have already made a new friend, and you will make many more. Remember that each new friend needs kindness and so do you. Give it freely.

You have heard of God and His everywhere ways. Keep asking your hard questions - do not be afraid. He knows your name, and He will not forget you. God is who he is even when you don’t know everything about Him. Do not worry. He will be guiding you, even when you think you are all alone.

The next bit that I'm going to tell you may not be easy to hear. Don't stop reading... Momma is still sick, and you are told she will get better. She will, sweet child. First, though, she will get worse. She will lose her strength and her hair. She will worry about you and your brother and sister. She does not want to be sick. Do not blame her for your sadness. She is fighting for life, and your hugs and drawings and words of encouragement do help. Do not blame yourself for her sadness. This Christmas she will stare at you often and smile with tears in her eyes. Smile back and hug her every time. She loves you so, and always will. Did you know that love lasts forever? Well, it does! Forever and ever – God says so. When her strength is all gone, your daddy will take her to the hospital, and he will not let you go. Do not blame him for his fear. He is trying to protect you. When he returns home, she will not be with him, and you will have many questions. He will not be able to answer them all. Do not be angry with him. He will sob into your chest and wrap his thick arms around your waist. Yes your daddy will cry, but don’t worry. This is good for him. You don’t need to do anything, but try to hug him back.

When you sit in the pew and stare at the box, let the tears flow, strong girl. Do not be ashamed of your heart. It will be loud, and everyone will know your love and recognize your pain. When you go back home and the silence is unbearable, ask Daddy to play some music for you. Ask him to dance with you. It will be good to smile again. Do not hold it in.

When your heart hurts terribly and the world has passed you by, remember God. He knows your name and he knows your tears. He will keep your love safe, and you will get your love back. He will see you through many seasons.

One last thing… Know this, beautiful girl, that love will not always hurt like this. This hurt you will feel in a short while, it is atomic hurt. It is big person hurt. But you are little, and God’s heart for you is bigger than big. It will cover your hurt and piece you back together. And He will send new love to you. Do not be afraid. Love will not always hurt. Most of the time, love is like music. It makes you smile.

Now, lovely child, go hug Momma. And ask Daddy to dance with you again. Tickle your brother and sister, and then go outside and play. You will be made all right, sweet joy. It will be made all right.

 

 

It is quite the cathartic process to write a letter to yourself as a child. You can write more than one. This exercise points your attention to a particularly emotional, traumatic, or overwhelming time, and allows you to gather perspective on your past. Too often, we experience overwhelming adversity as children without significant help from the adults in our lives at the time. Perhaps the adults were overwhelmed as well, or perhaps they were absent. The wounded part of you remains in your mind... your memory. A common coping mechanism is called "compartmentalization". In a sense, we package up that memory and keep it isolated from the rest of our growing up. When that happens, emotions associated with that memory may remain child-like. What every child needs is adult guidance, input, and explanations to get them through difficult times. Try it. Try writing to the child that you were many years ago, as if they were a child today. Give them advice, forgiveness, hope... whatever you think will help. Your heart will thank you.