Taylor’s letter is painfully ordinary in the most beautiful way. She worries about grades, wonders about college, dreams of traveling, and jokes about her iPad being “older than the tablet” her future kids might use. Between the playful questions about Doctor Who and Dollywood, she presses herself—her future self—to stay close to God, to keep serving, to remember what truly matters. It’s the voice of a child who somehow writes with the urgency of someone who understands how fragile time is.
Her parents never got to watch her open that box in 2023. Instead, they opened it through tears, holding the dreams their daughter never lived to see. By sharing her words, they transformed private grief into a public reminder: none of us are promised the decade we’re planning for. Taylor’s letter isn’t just a note to her future self; it’s a quiet, powerful challenge to everyone still here to love harder, believe deeper, and not waste the days we’re given.