There is something I have come to believe about the promises children make, which I did not understand until Julian kept his.

We tend to dismiss them, the vows of five-year-olds, as sweet but insubstantial, the products of minds too young to grasp what they are promising.

When a small child swears eternal devotion, or vows to never forget, or promises the impossible to a dying sibling, we smile sadly and think, they don’t really understand, they’ll forget by next week, it’s just a child’s way of coping.

And usually we are right; children do forget, and should, because the weight of every childhood vow kept literally would crush a life.