Dear children,
For years you have been ours. From little tiny babies to walking talking children, we have watched you grow.
You’ve tested our patience and taught us things we had forgotten in our adulthoods.
Things like the joy of a cool outfit.
The tastiness of plastic toys.
The fun of sitting in a suitcase.
The apprehension of learning to swim.
The excitement of being given a present and spending more time playing with the cardboard.
The uncontrollable laughter that bursts out when you do your hair up the same.
The simple honest love that children haven’t learned to hide yet.
The beauty of a small child’s face.
But you have started to grow now, children. You speak. You walk. You make pictures.
You make Lego.
You stick stickers.
You tell us about school and nursery and make up games for us to play for your amusement. You know our faces and you want us to read you bedtime stories. You come for dinner and look sad when you have to go home. You have likes (the colour green and snakes) and dislikes (having your photo taken).
But these years have been precious. These were our years.
Last night, you got on an ‘ellaflane’ and flew to ‘Stralia’ to begin your new life. And that’s that. England will be a distant memory. Yaya will remember it better as he is five. Your other family will become real people and we will become the Skype crowd. We will still love you and send you gifts in the post but you will be terribly, terribly far away.
These years have been ours.
Your next years will belong to someone else.