Cuteness

I was over at my friends' house tonight for dinner as I often am on Sundays, and was playing with their almost 2.5 year old, who I'll call Little Miss M. In the midst of a sort of stream of consciousness sentence, she says "I make peepee!" and this conversation ensues:

"Do you want to go make peepee on the potty?"
"No."
"Do you have a diaper?"
"No."
"Do you need your diaper changed?"
"Okay!"

So, off we go upstairs to change the diaper. We meet Little Miss M's mom on the stairs and she says, "Oh, I'll do that." and Miss M says "No." and points at me. Luckily I interpret this as a sign of love and trust. Generally, I prefer diamonds, but she's 2. Diaper changing works for me. Except she lies! It was a poopy diaper!

Later, Little Miss M has been put to bed, but we hear a noise on the baby monitor. Her mom turns it up, and we hear humming. What tune? The intro music from Star Wars.

No wonder I love this kid!

Remember

Today I keep remembering a piece of a quote from West Wing: "[T]hey ran into the fire to help get people out. Ran into the fire. The streets of heaven are too crowded with angels tonight. They're our students and our teachers and our parents and our friends. The streets of heaven are too crowded with angels[.]"

Never forget.

Madeleine L'Engle, 1918-2007

When I was a teenager, I was geeky and awkward and shy. I was taller than most of the boys, and smart, and dressed in cords and plaid blouses with little ribbon ties - in the early 1980's. I read voraciously at home, and my social life was mostly fictional characters. Meg Murry and Vicky Austin were good friends to me at that time. Their creator, Madeleine L'Engle, died yesterday. If you had asked me back then who my favorite author was, I would have said Madeleine L'Engle without hesitation, even though I read dozens of books. Even into adulthood, I continued to read her, discovering her autobiographical books and her adult fiction. Her gentle inclusion of religion in her books and her writings about an afterlife, formed the beginnings of my first attempts at a personal theology.

I always meant to write her and tell her what she had meant to me during some rough patches in my life, but I never did, and now I'll never have the chance. I know what books I'll be rereading over the next few weeks.

Goodbye, Mrs. Franklin, and good luck on your next journey. Thank you.