Wan leta bout di boada we parents fi neva kros

Notn no skeri pas di moment wen yu opn di door fi di elda dem wid a kliin, chruu at, an dem ansa yu bak wid bag a trik an plan. Wen parents figet bout di myuuvment an blainli tek a said fi dem son ar dem daata gens di ada smadi we dem marid tu.

Wen dem put dem self inna a nex smadi union, parents tink se dem a du di rait ting. Bot dem no nuo di huol chuut an dem no iivn nuo di krasin, onfixable pien we dem gi di ada smadi an ou dem mash op dem owna gran pikni dem world, tier it op inna piis.

I write this letter as a reminder of the highest law of ancestral honor: never become judges in the house of your children. Do not weave intrigues, do not divide the indivisible, and do not teach them how to live. Your calling is to be a quiet light and kind support, not a force that destroys what was not built by you.