Maybe They Forgot Their Bag
Listen and learn. “Maybe they forgot their bag,” a child observes in answer to finding yet another pile of dog poop on the lawn where we are playing. This willingness to see a global kindness in others is something often gets lost as we grow older. So now we just bring bags with us to help where we can.
There Will Be A Map
The year winds down. Only a few weeks, a handful of days, left. I’m specifically not counting , but this year’s Tracks class is keeping count in a way that others haven’t. “Is this the last day I play the rhythm,” one asks. I force myself to think. Ada answers, though. She seems better equipped to think of the bittersweet in the beginning/endings, thankfully.
Grandmother Snake
I know the power of story, coming and going. The following week, he told me that whenever he is worried he just picks up a worry stone and it takes care of itself. He told me this with the knowledge and skill that this was his very own story. I didn’t tell it, he did.
19% Cold
“That’s right,” he added, reassuring all who would listen. “The honey bee drone doesn’t know. It’s only 19% cold. To the drone. Only 19% cold.”
The children had to get back to what needed to be done. They needed to continue playing and could n’t stop to untangle the sudden appearance of a bee.