In the American mythological mythscape in which I was raised, I should be envious of people like Elon Musk, Jeff Bezos, Mark Zuckerberg and the like. I should be in awe of the President of the United States and the power he wields. For reasons I can’t wholly define but for which I am eternally grateful, I refused that story. Rather than envy the rich and powerful, I feel nothing but pity for them. They and their ilk have big holes in their souls that no amount of money or power will ever fill. Because they’ve chosen the wrong food, they have hungers that will never be satiated no matter how much they eat. Not one of them will ever, ever, get a card like I got today after three weeks sharing my childlike self with children from 5 to 11-years-old.
As promised in the last post, here are some of the testimonies from the kids. Since the handwritten quality is central to their message, I include a photo of one of the four pages. My two favorites?
• I loved playing and learning to play the exzilaphone with you!
Most creative spelling ever!
• Thank you much! It was things! Not just the music, it was all the moments!
Still thinking about “It was things!” But loved that last sentence—not just the music, but all the moments! The music turned out to sound pretty great, but looming even larger was how we learned and the feeling in the room. All the moments. These kids got it!
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