When I was a kid, my grandpa gave me the same birthday gift every year—a little green plastic soldier. I never questioned it; I just saved them in a box.
Years later, my sister flipped one over and showed me tiny words carved into the base: “You’re in college now. Try to be more attentive.”
I checked the others. Each had a message: “Be brave.” “Protect your sister.” “The world is tough, but so are you.” The last one read, “I’m proud of the man you’re becoming.”
Through those soldiers, Grandpa had been teaching me quietly all along.
When I called to tell him I finally understood, he just laughed and said, “Took you long enough, soldier.”
