The more time I have with this girl the more I am convinced that she is in fact my teacher and not the other way around. She teaches me about myself, about my husband, about God. It’s not my job here to produce a good human. To teach her how to be good. She already is. She is innate goodness.
No, it is not my job to teach her how to be good. How could I when it is she that is a few steps from heaven? It is my job to gently remind her when she forgets. To try my damnedest to give her an example of how to hold onto that goodness well past infancy.