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Dear Dreamers

Don’t give up hope. Don’t let anyone steal from you what has been breathed into your DNA. The things you dream about might change the world, might change a community, or might change one life . . . and even just one life would be worth you pursuing the heck out of that dream. So do it. Do what it takes. Put yourself out there, ask for help. Give people the opportunity to show you how much they believe in your dream — you’ll be surprised, I promise. There is no reason for you to sit back and say, “It’ll never happen.” Believe in yourself. I believe in you.

Today’s letter was written by Name: Julie Presley Twitter: jpresley48 Blog: http://www.juliepresley.com Written From: the place where I write
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So full of promise and endless possibility

Dear Baby Dancer, Tonight you made your TV debut…and you killed it. You danced as though you were by yourself in your living room with your favourite song playing on your moms iPod. But you weren’t in your living room. And it wasn’t your mom’s iPod. You were dancing on a stage with millions of people watching and were totally in your element. You are only a toddler. There will be many tough years ahead of you filled with voices that will discourage you. They will tell you to be normal. To fit in and do what everyone else does. I beg of you, don’t listen. Keep dancing your little heart out and follow it wherever it takes you. Don’t listen to the crowd that tells you to be like everyone else. Because you’re not. You probably don’t know what happened tonight, other than you were just dancing, not paying attention to who was watching. But I hope that tonight the stage captured you and won’t let go. It ultimately may not be the dance stage. But whatever stage is yours, grab it. Don’t ever let the lights go out. – Dave
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Your craft is so much more than just what you do

Dear Beatbox Busker, It’s gotta take a considerable amount of effort and dedication to do what you do. Not only do you have to cart your amp around, strapped to a dolly but I can’t imagine how tiring it must be for your vocal chords to perform your craft hours on end without so much as a break for water. It was interesting watching people pass you by. Some walked passed without so much as a sideways glance. Others turned to friends to make some sort of comment before snickering. Yet other stopped to listen, marvelling at the dynamic beats that flowed from your throat and mouth with such precision and depth. Young and old, those who stopped were overcome, even if just for a brief moment, with awe and intrigue as you manipulated sound effortlessly with your voice. Yet not one dropped a single coin in overturned hat. Regardless, each person that stopped close enough to chat, you did shook their hand acknowledged each with a smile on your face. It would be super easy to get frustrated, feeling as though your hard work was going unrecognized and unrewarded. But you didn’t. You continued to perform with a smile on your face, periodically closing your eyes as you got lost in the passion of what you do. Some may see you as just a punk kid with a useless talent. But you are so much more than that. You are teacher to those who take a moment to actually stop and pay attention. You are a man who has encouraged and inspired me to focus on my own craft (or maybe even to find out what my craft is) and stop at nothing to share it with others; regardless of how much effort and emotion it takes. Keep honing your craft. Oh, and keep beatboxing you’re pretty good at that too.

– Dave What’s your craft?
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Unwitting Life Changer

Dear Unwitting Life Changer, You may not know this but I’ve been watching you for years. I have watched you grow from a boy into a man. I’ve watched as you have commanded the attention of everyone near you. I’ve seen rooms brighten by your mere presence alone. I’ve seen you call people on their bullshit in a way that they can’t ignore. I’ve seen a faith in you that is rivalled by none. I’ve seen how much you love your father. I’ve seen how you hold him tight when you’re by his side. I see how you lovingly stroke his hand, totally enthralled just to be standing with him. I’ve seen how you clasp his hand in your fingers with pride, as if to ensure that everyone knows he is yours. I have seen how those same fingers interlocked with his to give him strength. You have changed his life. I know there was hurt, fear and frustration when he found out that you would be born with Down syndrome. But through the years I have seen how your strength, child-like wisdom and faith have pushed your father to be a better man. Not just for himself or your family, but for everyone that he comes in contact with. You may not know this but while I was watching, you changed my life. Thank you. – Dave
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Tiny Dancer

Dear Tiny Dancer, There was something special about seeing you today. Maybe it was because there was a smile of pure joy on your face as you were lost in another world, doing something that you love. Maybe it was the pure innocence, recognizing the beauty of a reality that I will never know again. Maybe, just maybe, it was because something behind your bright eyes gave me a glimpse at the hope and excitement which comes so easily to a child of 7 but seems to be such a struggle for a man of 30. Somewhere along the line my hope gave way to sarcasm, pessimism (cloaked by the guise of “realism”), and cynicism. Somewhere along the way I lost the hope of child. Seeing you today helped restore a sense of hope and faith in something that I had lost a large piece of a long time ago. Thank you. – Dave
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Dear Food Court Kid

It’s not too often that we see integrity or respect coming from a young generation. To guess your age, I would say young teenager. It was a simple thing that you did which spoke volumes about your consideration of and respect toward others.

You were eating lunch at the food court in the mall with what I assume to be your brother and father. After you meals, your brother left the table and your father got up to put on his jacket and you instinctively gathered up the lunch garbage and took it to the trash bin with the tray. It seemed natural for you to do that; not even being asked.

You wouldn’t have seen this, but the lady whose “job” it is to clear the tables was standing behind you, saw what you did and the look on her face was priceless; positive bewilderment. I’m pretty sure you made her day.

In a time when it’s hard to encourage people to not litter, you’re setting an example of something so much more – a lesson that not just “young” people need to adhere to.


An observer.

Today’s letter was written by Name: H.T. 575 Twitter: @haikutube Blog: http://haikutube.wordpress.com Written From: Canada
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A world without #MCV is incomprehensible

Word on the street is that today is Dustin Senos’ birthday. I’ve been following him for a while and he has inspired me to no end…although he doesn’t know it. Drop him a line and wish him a happy birthday.
Dear Genius Code Writer, Guys like you inspire me. Hell, you inspire me. Part of it is probably just the man crush that I've developed over the last couple of years that I've following the work that you do. I'd be lying if I said there wasn't part of me that wanted to be you. But the thing that I'm impressed with the most; the thing that keeps pushing me to better is the passion you for WHY you do what you do. It's not to churn out code for the sake of churning out code. It's not to design or redesign something to simply make it more aesthetically pleasing. By creating, coding and designing ways that enable us to interact with each other in new and rewarding ways, you are helping bring a level of humanity to technology that may not otherwise exist. You see the world for what it is: a big, open, limitless playground that is begging to be explored in ways that it never has been before.  Keep playing. Who knows, maybe one day I'll grow a pair big enough to join you.                                       Happy Birthday,
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I am a prisoner…

Dear Rolling Pedestrian, I'm not a big fan of walking.  I do it when necessary, you know, like walking from the couch to the fridge in search of my last beer.  I walk from the office to my car and from the car to my house. I've never walked to school. Other than the fact that I'm lazy, the point is that I can walk; I just choose not to. You, on the other hand, don't have the luxury of making that choice. You can't walk to school, even if you wanted to. You can't walk to your friend's house or take a stroll on the beach as the water laps at your bare toes. You are confined to a wheelchair yet you are navigating the sidewalk as if the two of you are old friends who see each other on a daily basis. In some ways I suppose your chair is like a prison, only allowing you to experience the world through the spokes of your cell. But I wonder who is really more free: the one who chooses to see the world from their limited vantage point, or the one who has the ability to see the world in all of it's fullness but chooses not to? I suspect it's the former.  -Dave
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The Wisdom of a 10 Year Old

Dear Passionate 10 Year Old, I have never talked to a more passionate, mature, selfless girl than you. As I listened to you pour your heart out and share ideas how people could/should be helping raise awareness about what's happening to kids and families in North Africa, I knew deep down inside that our world (the one that you are already shaping) is going to be okay. You are part of a generation that will change our world through the selfless acts of kindness and humility that are deeply woven into your DNA.  People will try to tell you that you're too young to change the world; to wait until you grow up. Here's a secret: Wisdom does not come from age, it comes from having the ability to see the world through the eyes of others (especially those less fortunate than you).             You are more wise than I.  -Dave
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The Patience of a 10 Year Old (Who Would’ve Thought??)

Dear Bicycle Girl, You can't be more than 10 years old. Yet your patience as my brother and I walked side by side taking up the entire sidewalk, oblivious to your presence, is something I could use more of. The icing on the cake was the polite