Last week Max's classmate Moe (pronounced Mo-ay) left America to return with her family to Japan. We gathered in a park near the preschool they attended, to say good-bye. The children ate sugar, then exploded onto the slides and swings.
Moe liked my son Max and wrote sent him a nice valentine.
Watching these able children playing, I felt great hope for their future. I was sad to say good-bye, but happy also, to see Moe flying out into the wider world. I'm sure Moe will do well in her school in Japan. She's smart and serious, always in command of herself. I remembered Walt Whitman's lines:
It is not to diffuse you that you were born of your mother and father---it is to identify you,
It is not that you should be undecided, but that you should be decided;
Something long preparing and formless is arrived and formed in you,
You are thenceforth secure, whatever comes or goes.
The threads that were spun are gathered . . . . the weft crosses the warp . . . . the pattern is systematic.
The preparations have every one been justified;
The orchestra have tuned their instruments sufficiently . . . . the baton has given the signal.
The guest that was coming . . . . he waited long for reasons . . . . he is now housed,
He is one of those who are beautiful and happy . . . . he is one of those that to look upon and be with is enough.
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