rockinlibrarian (
rockinlibrarian) wrote2013-06-07 08:48 am
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This Little Light
This morning I've been singing "This Little Light of Mine" over and over in my head like a mantra... I say "like" a mantra, but whatever, it IS a mantra.
It's like I've said before about children's books: just because they're written "for children" doesn't mean-- the good ones, anyway-- people OLDER than the target age group can't get anything out of it. Harold and the Purple Crayon is profound. Period.
Who could think a simple little Sunday School song could be what a 35 year old most needs in her life? Who could think the message of this repetitive little tune of about four notes would be so easily forgotten by the grown-ups of the world who think they're so wise and disillusioned and world-weary? Who could think the very people who've been hearing the song all their lives now spend so much of their time hiding and even snuffing out lights, other people's lights or their own?
It's basic. A basic message. A basic truth. And the most basic of truths shine so well in the art supposedly intended for children. And inside every adult is a child who still needs to hear it. Even adults can grow.
It's like I've said before about children's books: just because they're written "for children" doesn't mean-- the good ones, anyway-- people OLDER than the target age group can't get anything out of it. Harold and the Purple Crayon is profound. Period.
Who could think a simple little Sunday School song could be what a 35 year old most needs in her life? Who could think the message of this repetitive little tune of about four notes would be so easily forgotten by the grown-ups of the world who think they're so wise and disillusioned and world-weary? Who could think the very people who've been hearing the song all their lives now spend so much of their time hiding and even snuffing out lights, other people's lights or their own?
It's basic. A basic message. A basic truth. And the most basic of truths shine so well in the art supposedly intended for children. And inside every adult is a child who still needs to hear it. Even adults can grow.
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(Anonymous) 2013-06-07 03:22 pm (UTC)(link)Incidentally, I can't mention Judith Viorst without mentioning that she wrote one of my favorite poems ever. It's called "Bertha's Wish":
I wish that I didn't have freckles on my face.
I wish that my stomach went in instead of out.
I wish that he would stand on top of the tallest building and shout,
"I love you, Amanda!"
One more wish: I wish my name was Amanda.
Who among us hasn't felt like that at some point? Heck yes, adults can get stuff out of children's books and songs. I hope I never ever forget that.
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