Better and Better – A Letter I’ll Never Forget

This blog isn’t just about a letter. It’s about the kind of love and presence that outlives the moment it was given. It’s about legacy—the quiet, unseen roots we plant in children’s lives that grow stronger with time, often blooming when we least expect.

When I first started coaching, I didn’t know if I had what it took. I had no blueprint, just heart. I walked into that gym at Blackshear Elementary wondering if I could really reach kids the way I hoped. And then I met Brooklyn. She and her sister were walking through something heavy—parents divorcing, a world shifting beneath their feet. I didn’t know the details back then. I just knew I had to show up with consistency, love, and a little bit of fun.

All I could offer were small things—daily check-ins, eye contact, and our signature call-and-response:

“How are you doing today?”

“Better and better!”

I didn’t know how much it meant. Not until now.

Years passed. I coached hundreds more. Faces came and went. Life moved fast. But then, this week, I received a letter from Brooklyn—now grown—and in her words, I found something sacred. A confirmation. A full-circle moment. A whisper from God: It mattered. You mattered. You still do.

This post is for all of us who wonder if the little things count. For teachers, coaches, mentors—anyone who pours into others and sometimes feels empty. Keep going. You don’t always get to see the bloom right away. But one day, the seeds you planted might write you back. And when they do, you’ll know: it’s better. And it gets better and better.

Here’s Brooklyn’s letter:

What These Letters Mean to Me

Every now and then, life hands you a reminder of why you poured your heart into the work in the first place. It doesn’t come with fanfare. It usually comes as a quiet message. A note. A memory.

This one came from Brooklyn.

She was one of the first students I ever coached—my first year at Blackshear Elementary. Back then, I was still learning the ropes, still figuring out how to lead with love, discipline, and consistency. And Brooklyn? She was a light. Smart, spirited, and full of life.

Getting this message from her all these years later hit me in a way I didn’t expect. It reminded me that what we do in those small, everyday moments matters. That the seeds we plant—whether in a gym, on a field, or in a classroom—sometimes take years to bloom. But when they do, it’s everything.

Thank you, Brooklyn. I appreciate you, your words, and the reminder that love given never fades. You mean more to me than you probably know.

Here’s her letter:

Coach Castillo,

As I read your chapter, I am heartbroken. I am not sure you remember me, and that’s okay I’m sure you have seen lots of faces in 20 years. But I come to you as a ex student of yours and the impact you had on mine and my sister lives. We had just moved back from North Carolina, our parents weren’t freshly divorced. the impact you had on us is one we will never forget. We would have never grown, healed and made it through the divorce without you. I can still hear your voice asking how we were doing or how our day was going and our response was always BETTER AND BETTER. In the mix of this chapter of your life, I hope you know the impact you made on many of us and will continue to make. As well as Barbi did for us at rezniks, thank you both for being a light when we needed it most. Sending lots of love and prayers to you and your family during this time. ❤️

So I guess it’s my turn to make sure you remember from here it gets, BETTER AND BETTER.