My darling daughters,
You're walking now. In that wobbly, likely-to-fall-at-anytime way, but it still counts.
No, I'm not going to reveal who walked first.
Yes, you both made your mother very proud. Apparently you began walking before the average infant. In her mind, that's empirical proof that you're going to grow up to run banks or command robot armies.
Funny thing, though: I couldn't tell you when exactly either one of you crossed that major milestone. Truth is, there was no single, triumphant moment. Your first steps were actually hundreds of incremental advances made over several months.
You were crawling, then crawling and cruising in equal parts, then cruising without falling as often as before, then wobbling without holding on to anything but falling often once again, then... you get the idea. To paraphrase Hemingway, you started walking in two ways. Gradually, then suddenly. He said that about going bankrupt but I believe it applies as much to failing as it does to finding success.
Gradually, then suddenly. I hope you'll remember that order whenever you set out to accomplish something. The world you're growing up in places far too much emphasis on instant success. I want you to know that all great achievements take time.