Simple Magic

Three by three they arrived early this cool autumn afternoon. Being prompt is rewarded in the third week. 1pm, at tables and chairs, we can see each other. Two groups, two rooms. Small and large. Different virtue for each class. For some, today is the first time.
I stay with the 5 to 8 year old group. Name? How old are you? What is the most interesting thing you did last week, will do this week? Two five year old boys point to each other, “I’m having a sleep over with my friend.” Beaming independence.
Sea of delight, makers of wonder, I am in your universe, happily unaware that time has meaning to some, keeping time strictly.
Floating smile, brilliant eyes, her hair skips lightly. Moving still, sitting in motion, tell us your tale. “I ice skate fast. I fall to stop. I’m good.” Beautiful child, I love you so.
New teacher speaks, smile spreads through her face, we smile with her, gaze locked there, on her dancing eyelashes.
What is a virtue? What is not? One thump for happiness, two for selfishness. Generousity, thump. Peacefulness, thump. Cruelty, thump thump! Courage (today’s virtue), thump! We make music all day.
Soon I drift to to the 9 to 12 year old class. Their teachers are quieter. There’s less to say. By 9 they know virtues (it’s their turn to watch us, the grown ups, to see if we live by our own rules). I find them decorating business sized cards with a simple message. LOVE “Hatred cannot drive out hatred; only love can do that.” – Martin Luther King Jr.
Technology in the form of a mini laminating machine impresses all. Quick art freezes today’s lessons. Ribbons adorn. Magnets make useful. Craft time gives way to skits of courage (thump) and love (thump). Later, courage and love will share space with holiday pictures and grocery lists in their kitchens. Skits give way to snack. After snack, rehearsal.
Welcome Ms. Katie. Welcome Mr. Brown. Brilliant stars illuminate the way. “When you’re on stage…” All eyes fixed ahead, ears pulling in, minds recording critical information. Ms. Katie and Mr. Brown are rivers of wisdom, their knowledge flowing to young souls, dancing games, sincere consideraton of ideas offered, maintaining clear, focused attention for hours.
Little ones puzzle over kindness, consideration, belonging. Should anyone be left on the outside, friendless, just because they look different? Get around in a wheel chair?
Their slightly elders sort out slavery, ask important questions, unravel the reality of hell on earth for many. Between songs, scripts open in their laps, in response to one slave family being separated even when the father was paying for his wife, one boys demands to know, “Why didn’t he take away his master’s children in retaliation?!”
Compassion and sadness grow side by side.
Late winter performances of “Ugly Duckling” and “Henry Box Brown” have now begun to form in the womb Saturday afternoons.