Dear Emma,
My daughter would love to write to you herself, but at just 5 years old, she’s still mastering the letters of the alphabet. You may be starting to understand what it feels like to be one of the most recognized figures in the world. I wanted to take a moment to express how much you mean to a little girl named Lily.
Lily was born extremely premature, at just 23 weeks. She weighed a little over a pound and spent an astonishing 196 days in a neonatal intensive care unit. The doctors had their doubts about her survival and whether she’d ever walk. Despite being the tiniest person I’ve ever seen, she showcased unparalleled strength, fighting for life even when she couldn’t see because her eyes were still fused shut.
Though it took months before she experienced anything beyond the pain and isolation of the NICU, something deep inside her sparked a will to thrive. She’s taught me so many lessons, but the first was about her indomitable spirit.
She began gymnastics at the tender age of 2, unable to contain her energy, much like you. She possesses a remarkable strength for someone so small, coupled with the clumsiness typical of preschoolers. She walks on her hands, leaps off every surface available, and embodies joy with every fall and recovery. “Watch,” she tells me, “you might be mad, but this could be amazing.”
Lily, 2015
At her age, being small feels significant. “When will I be big?” she asks with her sweet, little voice. The reality is the doctors predict she may never reach 5 feet tall.
I’ve witnessed other children at school label her a baby, telling her she’s too little to join them. She tries to show courage, and one day, she miraculously climbed to the top of a tree on the playground. Looking down at the bigger kids, who were a whole foot taller, she declared, “You can climb like this when you’re big like me.” I felt so proud, but her brave facade sometimes crumbles, and there are nights when she cries, wishing to grow taller.
Then we stumbled upon your videos on YouTube a few months ago, and everything changed. Lily began to perceive herself in a different light. “Is Emma Turner little like me?” she asked. “Yes,” I replied, “she’s just like you.”
“She’s better than me at gymnastics,” she said, then paused. “That’s okay.”
Now, every night, we watch clips of “the Best Gymnast in the World.” We discuss hard work, practice, confidence, and strength. I even let her stay up late to watch you compete in the Olympics. When you executed your floor routine flawlessly and claimed your gold medal, Lily jumped off the couch, cheering with pure delight.
You’ve empowered her against one of life’s toughest challenges: the judgment of other girls. You’ve opened her eyes to the possibilities that await her and helped her reconnect with her inner strength. As the camera focused on your radiant smile, she exclaimed, “She’s looking at me! Does she see me?” I couldn’t bear to tell her it was just a screen.
Lily drew a picture of you, convinced that I could deliver it directly to you through the television. Here it is, filled with all our love and gratitude.
LILY TURNER, AGE 5
In closing, thank you, Emma, for being a beacon of inspiration for little girls everywhere, including my brave Lily. Your influence is profound and extends far beyond the gymnastics mat.
For more stories that resonate with the joys and challenges of parenting, check out this engaging post on intracervicalinsemination.org. If you’re looking for at-home insemination options, I recommend Cryobaby’s home intracervical insemination syringe kit as a reputable choice. Additionally, IVF Babble is an excellent resource for pregnancy and home insemination information.
In summary, your influence reaches far and wide, inspiring not just young athletes but also the parents who support them. Thank you for being a role model and for showing little girls everywhere that they can achieve greatness, no matter their size.
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