a rose in bloom

Dear Rose,

First off, I love your name (though I might have to call you Rosy, if you don't mind). And secondly, thank you for your letter and for your picture. I love that you're enjoying your sweater, though I think we both might have to admit that you've just about outgrown it. I know, I know, I'm sad about it too, but that's what happens when you get bigger. It's a good a thing; really, it is. I was thinking that you could put that little sweater on your sister's favorite doll. She does like dolls, doesn't she? I mean, she certainly doesn't have to. I didn't much like them, and I don't really think your mother did either, though I vaguely remember a cabbage patch doll somewhere in her past.

I'm really sorry that we didn't get a chance to meet over Christmas. Your grandparents, though, told me all about your charms. I'm planning to visit again before too long and we'll have to make a play date, so that I can pinch your cheeks and squeal with delight over your sweet cooing.

Until then, I'll be thinking of you and hoping that your parents keep you bundled all winter long.

Love,
me