Little Voices

While waiting outside the office of the lower division director at my son's school yesterday, I wrote the following:



Little voices screaming powerfully down the hall
On tiptoe they march to and fro
On steps of concrete, in sand and grass.
Children oh children 

With joy and mirth they cry for help
Quizzical looks as teacher talks

Tears of joy at friendships lost 
Renewed each morning at roll call.

To be young is not to be free
When those around are on constant watch.
Listen now to the little voices
For in them lie the future.
                                -- Karen Davis 2013

RIP Uncle DIck

My husband and I have entered an age when our parents, aunts and uncles and those of our friends begin to fizzle like mosquitoes to summer bug zappers.  My Uncle Dick, we were notified, passed early this morning, after suffering a stroke about a week ago. Dick was my mother's brother.

Dick, may you find peace in wherever it is that you land and may you be comforted by your parents, sister and brother there. Look down at us now and then and give a sign. You come from a long line of sign-givers. Your mother turns the lights on and off in our place every once in awhile. Your sister trips people when she wants us to remember her. Aunt Blanche, well, I think she used to appear on the street and stick out her tongue. But that stopped years ago. We are all part of this very strange and yet wonderful DNA mixture.

May you find comfort in that land beyond.
XOXO,
Your loving niece

MEND in Los Angeles is a "Force for Good"

One of our favorite organizations is MEND-- Meet Each Need  With Dignity -- which my son and I were privileged to work with in Los Angeles. Local Forces for Good | Stanford Social Innovation Review | Diigo