A Letter to My Daughter on Her Fourth Birthday: My World Is Better With You in It

I write a letter to each child on each birthday and include it in their journal. This fall, I’m writing to my daughter – my youngest child – who is turning four years old. Please enjoy this letter to my daughter on her fourth birthday, and feel free to use it as a template as you write to your own kids.

Writing to my kids is something I really treasure and I’m so glad I’m doing it! Read all about why.

My Darling Berri,

Happy fourth birthday, sweetie! You are my baby girl and you are so big and strong. You amaze me every day with all that you can do, all that you remember, all that you are learning.

You are at this perfect age – you turn four today, my baby! – where I am constantly torn between “She’s getting so big” and “She’s still so tiny.” You have those beautiful moments of independence like in your brand new swimming lessons, where you are learning and growing and okay with reaching away from me. (I will say that bringing you to the gym daycare has also helped transition you so that you can be comfortable, in small doses, with other adults.) And then there are the moments in the middle of the night or in the early morning where you still wander to my bed, hair wild and eyes full of dreamy sleep. I am still your comfort and your safe place, and in those moments you are my baby.

Your interests are all over the place and I love it! You are currently a big fan of Disney movies, especially the princesses, but we have a fierce feminism twist on it. We love Anna and Elsa from Frozen but we emphasize lines like “You don’t need a man to be happy” and “Have courage”, and what that means. You talk about how the Beast doesn’t have any love in his heart, but that Belle didn’t respect his boundaries when he asked her to not go to the West Wing in the castle. We see how Rapunzel was manipulated and needs to know the truth and how she deserves a family. So you see, we don’t focus on being pretty and finding a prince who will save you. We save ourselves, my princess.

We also recently finished the first Harry Potter book as a family – it took us weeks! – and there are lessons to be learned there, too, my dear. Hermione is fierce and brilliant; Professor McGonagall (one of my favorite favorites!) is tough but fair, and seems cruel but is quite kind and has much love. We talk about bullying, and the difference between just making bad choices (i.e. Draco) and being truly evil. And we talk about how strong a mother’s love is for her child.

It’s amazing how much you can understand. One of your favorite things, other than reading and coloring and eating, is to sit and talk about these stories. You analyze them, you summarize them, and you come to conclusions. It actually happened that we were in Ross the other day and you were in the cart, talking about Beauty and the Beast, and your words literally moved an elderly woman to tears as she listened to you speaking about love and respect in a Disney play-by-play. Your heart and your mind are so aware, my darling girl. I hope that you always carry these values and these lessons with you.

I don’t know what kind of world there will be for you when you grow up. Sometimes I have so much hope when I learn about real life heroes: Greta Thunberg, Malala Yousafzai, those who fight the good fight tirelessly and in the face of opposition. There are people saving whales, cleaning up the ocean, planting hundreds of trees, finding cures for terrible diseases, and helping children. But there is also an undeniable evil, greed and sloth and the dismissal of rich old people who frankly don’t give a damn. I want so desperately to protect you from those people, but I can’t. We know it’s impossible.

So how do I arm this precious child, blood of my blood and my own beating heart, for a world where children are sold and women are not equal to men, where we are killing the human race and disrespecting each other so blatantly?

I arm you with knowledge. With self-respect. I arm you with empathy and compassion, curiosity and courage. I arm you with the ability to never give up, to draw from that inner fire when everything around you seems like it’s burning out. I give you fight and strength, but gentleness and kindness.

I love you so fiercely, my big (and not so big) girl. You are the light in my life and the fire that I needed. The world is better with you in it, and I’m working damn hard so that the world can one day deserve to have you.

Your Number One Fan, Always,

Mama

Thanks for reading this letter to my daughter. I love writing to my kids and I hope that this has inspired you, too!

If you’d like to see some of the other ones I’ve done in the past, you can see this letter to my daughter at age three, two, and one; and letters to my son from age three, four, five, and six!