Just a few minutes ago, I began to tear a paper bag to build the last fire of winter. I go to a drawer to look for matches. There is a note crumpled up in the corner of the drawer, underneath the mess. I look at it pondering how it got there, certain that I was not the culprit. I un-crinkled it. It must have been sitting there for years. It read:
You make me so happy.
Somehow while I twist, spatter and glitter each object, I remember the faces of the children climbing around the first Sparkle Park. I remember watching a little girl systematically take all the solar lights out of the ground one at a time, and lay them down gently on the grass- certain that was her job. I laughed and it started to rain. The mirrors shook, and the little girl spread out her arms and tilted her face toward the falling drops. Her whole body leaned back and she was completely there. She was so much there, that she couldn’t even pay attention because she would have to think in order to do that. I remember this glowing beauty, and she lives in my mind as a reminder of how to wake up, and why we are doing all of this. Isn’t that something?
