Walking Through the Door

The best choice I ever made was to spend most of my entire life in the company of children. Their effervescent curiosity, their expressive faces and bodies, their boundless energy and infectious laughs (like the 3-year old who laughed uproariously at a joke I made at Singing Time the other day)— all of it keeps me in touch with my own childlike self even as I’ve had to grow into adult concerns and responsibilities. 

There is also often a deep wisdom far beyond the count of years that astounds me. Like when the learning specialist at my school stopped me in the hall the other day and told me (in Yiddish) that she wanted to brag about her student. And proceeded to have Saskia Berry, an 8-year old girl, read me her poem. As follows (minus the spelling mistakes):

Through each door I walk.

not knowing what is in front.

not knowing what will come.

But still, slowly

                               bravely

                                               I walk

walk through each door

                                                             of my future.

As I get ready to announce some changes in my future, prepare to consciously close one door and take the next step forward through new doors, the wise words of an 8-year old girl spoke the words I needed to hear, the courage I need to muster. 

Isn’t that remarkable?