For several weeks, my ‘perfectly-six’ year old has been working toward the big kindergarten/1st grade concert.
The song selections: “Yellow Submarine,” “I’m a Believer,” “Hound Dog,” and “Three Little Birds;” clearly, their sainted music teacher knows her audience.
Randa was practicing Tuesday morning, the morning I read the headlines about more children dying at school…not from the senseless act of a shooter this time, but from an act of weather. Either way, it is unimaginable.
Six year olds are toothless, question-asking, finger-waving, hand-holding magical beings. I love Randa, age 6, but just as much: I like her. I enjoy her. She is a fun person, coming into her own, full of life.
So as I imagine the grieving parents of little bodies lifted from rubble, and then hear her warbling six year old voice sing:
“Don’t worry about a thing,
‘Cause every little thing gonna be all right.
Singin’: “Don’t worry about a thing,
‘Cause every little thing gonna be all right!”
I can scarcely keep it together.
So instead of showcasing that, I give you another humble piece of 6-year-old magic.
Hug them tight, and pray for the grieving.