Driving home from school today my son announced to me unsolicited: “I love you, dada.” I searched for a follow-up question to keep him talking. But before I found one he doubled down: “Yeh, I care about you a lot.” He had reasons. I was thoroughly bested and could only return the friendly fire. It reminded me of something important that I struggle to hold in my mind. Much of my job as a father is stewardship. I have high hopes of cultivating, enculturating, and other creative and generative activities. But when my son speaks to me in this way I realise that he is already a person forming before my very eyes. I’m driving the car for now, but I’m also along for the ride in a certain sense. He’s not my project. He’s a big person in a little body. Sometimes I catch a glimpse of him wondering about a dilemma or engaged in an endeavour and it occurs to me with such clarity that he has an internal life. This is always true. And yet I’m rarely mindful of it. The problem is I’m so consumed with own internal life. I realise there’s a little voice in his head narrating, interpreting, just as there is in mine. I’m sure his is more bearable than mine and I’m thankful for that. But in these moments I wonder at my son. What a complete and unique creation he is. Always forming, growing, developing. I quickly realise how much he needs my patience, gentleness and understanding, and how frequently I fail to provide them. He’s very forgiving. He’s a big person in a little body. How will I remember that? How will I become a better steward and take good care of him? What a wonder it is that he’s already learning to take care of me.