When my son Adrian was just a small child, a peculiar tradition began that would come to define the landscape of his youth. Every year, without fail, a mysterious envelope would arrive in our mailbox on the morning of his birthday. It was an anomaly that started quietly, almost unnoticed amidst the bright wrapping paper and the chaos of toddlerhood, but it soon grew into a cornerstone of his annual celebrations.
Initially, I dismissed the occurrence as a simple oversight from a distant relative. Children often receive a flurry of
