books

Children amaze me – they hold a key that many of us have lost, tossed aside, or let rust. They see the wonder and excitement in everyday happenings – they are mesmerized by a cocoon, awed by wild animals, and entertained by a mud puddle.

When passing by the town museum during a recent class trip, one of the five-year-olds in my charge pointed and said, “What’s in that museum? Dinosaur bones?” “No,” I replied, “maybe books.” With excitement in his voice he piped up again, “real ones?” “Yes” was my reply. “True ones?” “Yes.” “Cool” he whispered softly as he turned back around in his seat.

It makes me think of his words. And I am again reminded to look for my key, dust it off, polish it, and put it to use.