When I asked you why the purple Violet called to you, you told me it was “magic”. I hope that you can still find the magic of life. I hope, despite everything, it is still in abundance.

We can learn a lot about how to treat others from stories that have been passed from generation to generation.

I know I need to write this to you, and I don’t want to because it makes me so sad. I have been desperately avoiding my feelings about climate change, for many years, but especially and with greater intensity every year since you were born.

Creo que debo hacer más. Por ello, he decidido escribir esta breve carta para empezar un proceso en el que vaya escribiendo más cartas, conforme vaya teniendo más claridad de mis posibles contribuciones.

I am most sorry we could not work through our differences, and see through the greed, get organized, and do more so that you could have a better life in your 2030 future.

I know it’s long past time to wake up. You deserve a future in which drought, famine, and war are not all your children ever know; the choices my generation makes now will determine your future.

I am witnessing climate change in a way that I do not like, and I do not know how can I stop it.

I have to tell you something: it is so hard to keep our life “green” for now, but we still keep trying.

I am sitting in a classroom thinking about you. Which is rare for me. I hope that our family has taken some initiative to do something about changing society instead of building robots and large houses.

I want you to see those corn fields in the north, the beautiful beaches down in Florida, and the stars in the woods at night.

I promise that I shall continue to do all that is within my capabilities to leave you a world where there is fairness and justice.