Stars and fire

We were sitting outside talking. A fire was going and I was starring up at the stars. "I think drowning would be an easy way to die, but I wouldn't want to die in a fire.", she said. I've heard this before, other young voices crying out for attention, help, security, acceptance and love. I dealt with it like I always do, just listening, asking why, paying attention. I think we short change our children by treating them like children or like they will be "broken" by any bad thing, and walling them away so that nothing can get to them leaving them more isolated, alone and separated from what they really need.

We talked for several hours and I gave entertainment and an ear to hear her voice. She mentioned ballet in passing and I thought of the Degas painting of "The Dance Class". I've always liked that one. We went on roasting marshmallows and poking at the dying embers in the fire.

Somewhere in the infinity of parrallel universes, we are on a beach with the fire buring low looking out over the rolling waves. The stars rotating overhead burning with bright majesty, watch as we finish talking and all problems are resolved, all wounds are healed and the true Love of God is known.

All I did was listen though, nothing magical, just listened.