A few days ago, I was home having lunch with my family. From my seat, I could see the two youngest sitting at their table eating peacefully- until one unleashed his cry.

“Momma, she ate all my potatoes!”

The little potato thief looked up, with an innocent yet accomplished expression. Her older brother by two years wasn’t eating his share, so she unwaveringly snatched them for herself.

This little girl is almost three years old, with the brave and curious soul of an adventurer embedded in her tiny frame.

She is proof that little boys do not need a brother in order to play dinosaurs or cars with. She can solve the daily troubles that come her way - if she needs to reach the sink to wash her hands, she runs for a tiny chair and props it up on her own. She will run as fast as she can, even with her shoes on backward.

She is kind and loving- tiny dogs are her favorite, along with bunnies and babies. She can sing her heart out until she reaches the fullest potential of her well-built lungs. She will cry with emotion, out of either frustration or sadness.

She is her brother’s biggest nuisance and his closest companion. She can play with crawling ants and stomp them down to dust when they overstay their welcome. She will steal your food, your phone, and your heart.

She isn’t made with only ‘sugar and spice and everything nice’...her concoction includes a few trucks and a handful of bugs.

She isn’t an accidental anomaly either. In her, you see her mother, her mother’s mother, and the abundance of motherly aunts that have granted her with wisdom, passion, and strength. These women are mothers; but firstly, they are revolutionary forces. They are diligently instilling in her the skills she will need to conquer this life and this world.

If you look around, you will find them- the warriors of this generation. The women who have built us, who have raised us, and who have fought for us.

Thanks to them, a little girl can grow up believing: she is, she can, and she will.