Behind every child who follows their spark, there is usually an adult who said yes.
Not a parent. Parents are supposed to say yes. I mean someone else. A teacher, a farmer, a neighbor, a coach. Someone who looked at your child and thought, "This kid is serious. I am going to treat her that way."
Lily had many of those people. 4H leaders who gave her opportunities. Veterinarians who trusted her enough to put our family on their call list. Volunteers at the state fair who let her show up and help. Community members who called us when they found an injured animal because they knew Lily would say yes. Our church family and youth group leaders who taught her what it means to serve and poured into her heart in ways that shaped everything she did.
But three women stand out. Three women who opened their farms, their classrooms, and their lives to a girl with a dream. And in doing so, they changed the course of hers.
Lily was in middle school when she decided she wanted to show dairy cows at the Delaware State Fair. I am not entirely sure how she arrived at that decision. We had not pushed her toward it. But she knew. She asked about Four H programs. She asked about farms. She asked about cows.
That is when we connected with Hopkins Dairy and met Ashley.
Ashley was the herd manager. She was responsible for the cows, the day-to-day care, all of it. She could have politely thanked Lily for her interest and sent her on her way. She could have said, "Maybe when you are older."
Instead, she said yes.
She let Lily come to the farm. She taught her how to care for dairy cows. Not in a cute, surface-level way, but in a real way. How to read an animal's health. How to understand behavior. How to be responsible for a living creature that depends on you. She let Lily work alongside her, learn from her, and become genuinely competent.
What Ashley did was simple, and it was everything. She treated Lily like she was capable. She treated her passion like it was worth her time.
Lily showed cows at the Delaware State Fair. She won third place in the state for her knowledge of dairy cows. Not because I pushed her. Because Ashley had taught her, believed in her, and Lily had risen to meet that belief.
But it was never really about the ribbons. It was about an adult saying: you belong here.
Ashley gave Lily something I could not give her as her mom. She gave her expertise and confidence in a world that was not mine to teach. She gave her proof that her passion was real and that real adults took it seriously.
When Ashley left Hopkins Dairy, Lily could have stopped. She could have decided the cow years were over and moved on. A lot of teenagers would.
Instead, she did something that still amazes me. She reached out to Heather, the animal science teacher and FFA advisor at our local high school.
This is the part where I realized my daughter was not just interested in animals. She was intentional about pursuing her passion. She knew what she needed: a mentor, a space, an opportunity. And she went looking for it.
Heather said yes too.
Heather became Lily's guide through the high school years. She took her under her wing and helped her focus on goats. She opened her classroom, her connections, and her time to a teenager whose dream she could have easily dismissed. Instead, she treated it like the serious pursuit it was.
During high school, Lily showed goats at the Delaware State Fair and won numerous awards. She spent a week at the fair every summer, completely immersed in the work. She was not just participating. She was building something.
Heather gave Lily what every teenager needs and few actually get: an adult outside the family who says, "I see what you are doing, and I want to help you do it well."
Then there was Laura.
Laura Ritter is a local mom who owns a goat farm. She let Lily come work on her farm, raise goats there, and learn the daily rhythms of keeping animals healthy and thriving. She worked alongside Heather to help Lily prepare for state fair showing. She became another anchor in a growing network of women who believed in my daughter.
But the story I love most about Laura is not about the farm.
One year, Laura took Lily to a major local music festival to do goat yoga. Yes, goat yoga. At the Firefly Music Festival. With hundreds of strangers, live music, and baby goats climbing on people's backs.
Lily was young. Early high school. I was nervous to let her go. But I trusted Laura, and I knew this was exactly the kind of experience Lily needed. The kind where you step outside your normal life and discover something new about yourself.
What Laura gave Lily that weekend was more than goat yoga. She gave her a love of music that runs alongside her love of animals to this day. She gave her a taste of independence. She gave her the message that following your passion can also be wildly, unexpectedly fun.
Laura did not just open her farm. She opened a door to a bigger life.
Here is what I learned from watching Ashley, Heather, Laura, and so many others pour into my daughter.
Your child needs adults outside your home who take them seriously. You can believe in your kid with your whole heart, and you should. But there is something different about a teacher, a farmer, a mentor looking your child in the eye and saying, "You are good at this. Let me show you more."
It changes something. It shifts a child from "I think I might want to do this" to "I belong in this world."
Ashley gave Lily expertise and confidence with dairy cows. Heather gave her a home base during high school and a mentor who understood FFA and animal science at a level I never could. Laura gave her a working farm, goat yoga at a music festival, and proof that this life could be joyful.
But they were not alone. Our church community and youth group leaders taught Lily what it means to have a servant heart. They took her on a mission trip in middle school that deepened her compassion in ways that went far beyond animals. Four H leaders gave her structure and opportunity. Our veterinarian trusted her enough to call our family when animals needed help. Neighbors and community members brought us injured animals because they knew we would care.
None of them had to do any of it. They chose to. And those choices, all of them together, changed my daughter's life.
If you are a parent reading this, look for the Ashleys, the Heathers, and the Lauras in your community. They are everywhere. They run the local farm. They teach the science class. They lead the Four H group. They coach the team. They lead the youth group.
They are the adults who do not just tolerate kids. They invest in them.
And if you are one of those adults, if you are a teacher, a farmer, a coach, a youth leader, a volunteer, know this: what you do matters more than you think. You might be the person who turns a child's interest into a calling. You might be the one who says yes when it would be easier to say no.
Ashley, Heather, and Laura did not know they were shaping a future veterinarian. They just saw a kid who cared about animals and decided she was worth their time.
That was enough. That was everything.