A Love Note from My Child, A Healing Gift to My Inner Child

Some days, even after all the healing work, the shadows creep in again.

This eclipse stirred something deep within me. Old wounds I thought had been healed re-emerged—anger, sadness, shame I didn’t know I was still carrying. It felt heavy. Like I had taken five steps forward, only to tumble back three. I was tired. I wanted to retreat. So I let myself rest.

And when I woke up, my son handed me a note.

It was a love letter he had written and illustrated himself. In his beautiful, heartfelt handwriting, he wrote:

“You are my hero. You feed me. You sleep with me. You take me to the park. You are like a flower blooming in the breeze. You are a rose. You care about me and Dawn! You are Mom and you smell like cotton candy.”

Next to it, he had drawn a radiant blue waterfall, pouring into a field of flowers and smiling suns, reminding me of the time I took him to see the waterfall in Minneapolis.

I held it in my hands and cried.

In that moment, Spirit whispered: See how far you’ve come.

This radiant little soul sees me—not for my wounds or struggles, but for my love, my presence, my essence. He sees a mother who is safe, joyful, connected. That is not something I had as a child. That is something I became. Just when I was feeling unworthy, like I wasn’t doing enough—Spirit sent this reminder through my own child. A mirror of joy. A reflection of the love I pour out daily, even when I don’t give myself credit for it. His pure presence, his unconditional love, healed a piece of me I didn’t realize still needed healing.

Then, he invited me to draw with him. “Let’s draw together,” he said, “I’ll teach you.”

I followed his guidance—his excitement and light so contagious. Together, we created what he called “a healing tree.” He told me, “Every time you feel sick or sad, you can hug this tree and be healed.”

My heart cracked open.

And just like that, my Divinity recognized his.

It was a holy moment—pure presence, pure love. In his eyes, I saw the light of my own inner child, the one who just needed to be seen, hugged, and invited to create again.

I realized something profound:

Sometimes, healing looks like witnessing your own inner child through the joy of your actual child.

His existence is a reflection of the work I’ve done to break cycles. He is a freer, brighter version of who I was at his age. And that, alone, is something to celebrate.

So today, I gently remind you:

✨ Don’t be so hard on yourself.

✨ Rest when you need to.

✨ Let your inner child speak.

✨ Celebrate how far you’ve come.

✨ Look for the light—it often finds you in the smallest, most unexpected moments.

Let love in. Let joy in. Let healing happen. And say yes to drawing trees.

Your inner child will thank you.

With love and gentleness,

Solarys