To your eighteen-year-old self

Xiaohe Lu

Written in 2026 · when you were three

May you still love this world when you open this.

As I write this, you are asleep in your little bed, clutching the stuffed bear with the missing ear. Right now, you speak only two or three short words.

I cannot foresee the world fifteen years from now, when you turn eighteen. I only hope you keep the innocence you have today, and your curiosity for even the smallest insect.

If there comes a day when you feel weary or disappointed with the world, come back and read these words. Remember that you were once loved this unconditionally, and let that be your anchor.

- your mother, on a quiet afternoon