Miriam's first real scribble is on the refrigerator, first in a decade-long series of her art to take that traditional place in the American home. It is red and purple and blue, wax crayon on paper. Since that fateful drawing in late 2010, her technique has advanced a little, but there have been no breakthroughs in her art, and so the drawing remains in its place of honor.
First Parish Unitarian Universalist of Arlington Church, entertainingly called FPUUA (fuh-poo-ah), annually holds a pair of bridging ceremonies for graduating high school seniors, one within the youth group for their departure from that group, and one with the congregation as a whole. The youth group ceremony is shrouded in some mystery to those who are not youth, their advisors, or their parents, but I was able to observe and take part as a congregant in a few of the public ceremonies over my five years with that congregation. There are words spoken, by the soon-to-depart youth, by their advisors, by their parents, and by the congregation as a whole, and gifts given. One year, the gift to each senior was a 64 count box of crayons. As Tina Schultz, director of Religious Education described, this was to remind them of the joys of childhood, that brightness can be found in the smallest packages, and that they should color outside of the lines.
Not from FPUUA, but acquired somewhere in my adult life, I have my own box of crayons, with which Miriam now learns to scribble. My downstairs neighbors have a box of their own on their desk in the window facing onto our driveway, and seeing its yellow and green design gives me hope that there is a box of colors somewhere behind each of the doorways and windows I pass along my way.
Yesterday's run destination: Montana Ave.
Yesterday's menu:
breakfast: Cinnamon Toast Crunch
lunch: salami sandwich
dinner: boiled potatoes, broccoli, and hot dogs
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