After you were born, there was a time I cried every single day. I told myself that I would still live my life, go out like I would with any baby. So, we went everywhere together. And it seemed like every day, someone would ask me questions, make comments (not always intending to be rude), or gawk (if they only knew how obvious it is). I would be fine, but when we'd get to the car, I'd cry. Sometimes I couldn't even make it to the car. You see, you, Samantha, are so tender to me. I can't really explain how much I love you. So, when other people aren't kind, or insensitive rather, it makes me sad. Couldn't they all see that you weren't so different? You are a person, a little baby girl. You breath. Your heart pumps blood throughout your body. You are a daughter and granddaughter.
After a few months of this, I decided that I couldn't live my life that way. I prayed a lot. And I came to realize that you are different -- and I became increasingly ok with that. See, now, yes, you look different than other people. You are small. Your head is smaller. Your hands are tight in fists. You hold your arms curled tight. You walk with a staggering gait. But, you also have a different mission. I believe that you are here to teach us -- and I'm not just talking about our family, but the world -- to be more compassionate, kind, loving, patient, Christ-like. That is incredible.
So when people say something that isn't so nice, just remember that you are different, and that's ok. That's how Heavenly Father wants you to be -- so to Him, and me -- for now, in this life, you're pretty perfect.
I love you.