What most teenagers dream of is to go to college, travel the world, and have many friends. 12-year-old Taylor Smith, of Johnson City, Tennessee, was no different. This girl spent her days around her family and friends and loved watching a lot of Doctor Who.
Smith outlined these plans in a letter she wrote to her future self in April 2013. The letter was placed inside a box in her room with the instruction “To be opened by Taylor Smith on April 12, 2023 only (unless said otherwise).”
Unfortunately, she didn’t live long enough to see whether those dreams would be accomplished. Just months after she wrote that letter, Taylor died of complications from a sudden onset of pneumonia.
Her parents, Tim and Mary Ellen Smith, were heartbroken. They couldn’t believe their girl was forever gone.
One day, as they were sorting through her possessions, they found the letter. As it touched them deeply, they decided to share it online and give others some solace.
As she shared her daughter’s letter, Marry Ellen wrote: “I can’t physically resurrect her, I can’t bring her back, but
I’m so grateful people have been inspired by her story.”
Below is Taylor’s letter and the words she wrote to herself.
Dear Taylor,
How’s life? Life is pretty simple right now (10 years in your past). I know I’m late for you, but as I’m writing, this is early, so; congratulations on graduating high school! If you didn’t, go back and keep trying. Get that degree! Are you (we) in college? If not, I understand. We do have pretty good reasoning, after all.
Don’t forget, it’s Allana’s 11th birthday today! Sheesh, 11 already? In my time, she just turned 1! I didn’t get to go to that party though, because I was in Cranks, Kentucky for my first mission trip. I’ve only been back for 6 days!
Speaking of, how’s your relationship with GOD? Have you prayed, worshipped, read the bible, or gone to serve the lord recently? If not, get up and do so NOW! I don’t care what point in our life we’re in right now, do it! He was mocked, beaten, tortured, and crucified for you! A sinless man, who never did you or any other person any wrong!
Now, have you gone on any more mission trips? Have you been out of the country yet? How about on a plane?
Is Doctor Who still on the air? If not, what regeneration did they end it with? You should go watch some Doctor Who! Later though, you gotta finish reading your own words of wisdom!
Do you have your own place yet? If we’re in college, what are we majoring in? Right now, I wanna be a lawyer.
Have you been to Dollywood recently? Right now, their newest attraction is the Wild Eagle. It’s so fun!
Also I think I’m going to sell my iPad and buy an iPad mini, Don’t forget to tell your kids that we’re older than the tablet! Attached I also have a drawing of an iPad, so you can show them.
Well, I think that’s all. But remember, it’s been 10 years since I wrote this. Stuff has happened, good and bad. That’s just how life works, and you have to go with it.
Sincerely, Taylor Smith
Beautiful words from an angel who was taken away from her family too soon!
If you were touched by Taylor’s words as much as we were, please share this story in her memory.
Yesterday, I found a sandwich packed for my work lunch along with a note from our 10-year-old foster son
The aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the kitchen, a comforting scent that usually signaled the start of a hectic workday. But yesterday, it was different. Yesterday, the kitchen held a quiet magic, a warmth that transcended the simple act of brewing coffee.
On the kitchen table, amidst the usual clutter of keys and mail, sat a neatly packed lunch bag. Beside it, a folded piece of paper, its edges slightly crumpled. A note.
My heart skipped a beat as I recognized the familiar, slightly slanted handwriting. It was Colton’s. Our 10-year-old foster son.
We’d opened our home to fostering after years of battling infertility. The empty rooms of our house had echoed with a longing that no amount of well-meaning advice could fill. We wanted to give a child a chance, a safe haven, a loving family.
Colton had arrived a year ago, a whirlwind of boundless energy and insatiable curiosity. He was a dreamer, a boy who found wonder in the simplest things. He loved riding his bike, exploring the neighborhood, and most of all, he loved helping in the kitchen, his eyes sparkling with the ambition of a future chef.
The note was simple, written in his characteristic, slightly misspelled script: “Lunch for you. Have a good day. Love Colton.”
And inside the lunch bag, a perfectly assembled sandwich, wrapped in wax paper, a small bag of chips, and a bruised but perfectly ripe apple.
It wasn’t just a sandwich. It wasn’t just a note. It was a testament to the bond we’d built, a tangible expression of the love that had blossomed between us.
For months, I’d felt a shift within me, a growing certainty that Colton wasn’t just a foster child, he was our son. The way he’d seamlessly woven himself into our lives, the way he’d filled the empty spaces in our hearts, it was undeniable.
That note, that simple gesture of love, solidified it. It was a quiet affirmation of what I already knew.
I shared the note with my wife, Sarah, her eyes welling up with tears as she read it. We looked at each other, a silent understanding passing between us. It was time.
Today, we made the decision official. We’re going to adopt Colton.
The paperwork is already underway, the legal process a mere formality compared to the emotional journey we’ve already undertaken. We’re planning a surprise for him, a small celebration to mark this momentous occasion.
We’ve decorated his room with balloons and streamers, a banner proclaiming “Welcome to your forever home!” We’ve baked his favorite chocolate chip cookies, and Sarah has even prepared a special dinner, a culinary masterpiece that would make any aspiring chef proud.
Tonight, when Colton returns from school, we’ll gather around the kitchen table, the same table where I found his note, and we’ll tell him the news.
I imagine his eyes widening with disbelief, then filling with tears of joy. I imagine him running into our arms, his small frame shaking with emotion.
And I know, with absolute certainty, that this is the best decision we’ve ever made. We’re not just giving Colton a home; he’s giving us a family, a love that’s richer and more profound than we ever imagined.
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