This week’s “Dear Daughter” letter comes from my friend Anna Carpenter. She is a wife, mom, and world traveler. A few years ago, Anna wanted to explain to her two-year-old why she was always surrounded by a tribe.

Her words remind us about the importance of community in developing our earliest sense of identity and self worth.

Dear Daughter,

There’s a special group of people I want you to know about. These people aren’t all related to you like your mommy and daddy are. Or like your aunts and uncles, or even like the people we call “aunts” and “uncles,” although they are included in this group, too.

These are your mommy and daddy’s friends, and your friends’ mommies and daddies. For the sake of this post, we’ll call them “our people.” But sometimes they’re called a tribe or a village. Whatever we call them, we know you wouldn’t be alive without them. They have known you since you were just a dream in our hearts.

These are our people.

They handed us* (me) tissues when tears were the only way to deal with the waiting for you. They prayed, oh how they prayed for us to have a baby.

You would not believe the joy our people had when they found out you were coming. They helped us pick your in-utero nickname, “Blueberry.” They helped us move furniture around so we could get the house ready for your arrival. And they came (and came and came and came) to bring us food when you got here. But really, they just wanted to meet you. They brought bags and bags of clothes, and books and blankets for you. In fact, I look around your playroom at your toys and stuffed animals, and I see our people who gave you almost all of what you play with every day.

These friends are generous with their advice and encouragement and STILL gush about how cute you are.

We are rich.

Sweetheart, what I’m trying to tell you is that we are rich. Maybe not rich with money, but rich with people.

It’s one thing to have people excited and complimentary about you having a baby—babies are cute and awesome and cuddly and who doesn’t want to hold one?—but it’s another thing altogether to have people willing to stick with you through the messes-from spit-up to blow-out-diapers to floor-food-decorating to tantrums to potty training and beyond.

You probably don’t remember how common it was for you to toddle into a room full of people and ask for “uppy” from a man who was not your daddy, or hand a book to a lady who was not your mommy, and up you went, and there you were being read to.

See, this is a treasure. These are our people.

So we asked you to sing your songs and tell your joke (yes, just one joke that you told “again again” but you were very good at it, so we laughed every time) to them because this is how we told them “thank you.” We share cute pictures of you because that’s how we tell them “we love you.” If we have our people over when it’s your bedtime, they get “nigh-night” kisses, too, because you’re theirs, and they are yours.

Enjoy it, baby.

Darling, I am inspired by the way you squeal (okay, scream sometimes) and do your happy dance when you see your friends. Everyone should be as lucky to be greeted with such excitement once in a while. When I see this, I think you just might get it a little bit. How awesome it is to have these people. To have these people who think you’re pretty awesome, too.

One last thing I want to tell you about our people is that they are grace to you. By that I mean, they are free. You did not do anything to get them. They love you because you are. Before you took one breath, before anyone besides the sonogram technician knew if you were a boy or a girl, before we gave you your beautiful name, you were in. Accepted. Cheerleaders in place.

This is not to say that it’s always going to be like this. Eventually, you will have to work for all of your most precious relationships, some of it will be hard work and some of it will be futile, but for now, just squeal and enjoy it, baby.

Anna Carpenter

Anna Carpenter recently returned to the States after a three-year tour in the Middle East. She’s rediscovering the wonder and beauty of America with her husband of 11 years and their two children. They currently live in Arlington, Virginia, but consider themselves pilgrims with hearts primed to explore the bigness of the world. Anna writes about all of the above at annasjoy.com.