Come, they play "The Magic Flute" tonight*

Even as I heard the news, even as my anger and sorrow rose, even as I remembered my own tragedies, another part of my brain started planning.  Another part of my brain said here is grist for the gristmill.

At the first meeting with my mentor, one of the questions he asked was "What do you care about?"  I took no time to think.  I knew.  I've known since I was seventeen.  The answer has remained unchanged.

Children.

At seventeen, the answer was purely intellectual.  The answer was my response to reading a book.  I began believing in god and I knew that the most valuable possession any person could have was their children.

Two years later, I began volunteering at a Headstart day care, and not only did I love the children and love the work, a piece of myself that I had never seen before appeared.

I have worked with children and teenagers for much of my life.  It is the most valuable work I do.

And yet, I have never written about children.

Fear.

Fear that I could not express what is inside adequately.

"It is time to take the bull by the tail and face the situation."


*Arthur Miller - After the Fall