Tag: morning

Is It Morning Yet?

January 12th, 2025

Asher stirred. He had been sleeping restlessly. We had gone to bed early since the following day was school for him. Asher still had his head resting on my bicep. My little grandson uses my left arm as a pillow when he first goes to sleep. He had been lying on it for hours when he started moving around and woke me from a dream.

He rolled closer to me. Then he said,

“I love you so much.”

I whispered, “I love you too.”

He asked me, “Is it morning yet?”

I looked up at clock. The illuminated numbers said, “11:56.”

I replied, “No.”

Then he told me, “You got to tell me when it’s morning.”

“Okay,”

Asher relaxed next to me and dozed off. I listened to his soft and slow breathing. I couldn’t fall back asleep. I gazed up at the skylight. It was clear and cold outside. I could see the bright light of Jupiter and two stars from the constellation of Gemini shining through the window. It was glorious, but so distant.

My mind was churning with thoughts of current events: war, violence in our nation’s streets, and the frightening and seemingly insane comments from our government officials. Asher was calm and in a deep sleep. He was snuggling next to me for protection from a threatening world. How did he know it was threatening? Maybe he tapped into my anxiety. Asher is very good at sensing the emotional wellbeing of others. Apparently, my physical presence was enough to comfort him.

How do I protect Asher in a world gone mad? How does anyone do that? How do I give a five-year-old shelter? How do I keep him safe? I don’t know. I can only try.

It is a scary world, but oh so beautiful. It’s always been this way. I need to show Asher how to revere and enjoy the awesome splendor of it all. I need to teach him how to be courageous and fight the darkness that is also there.

Morning is almost here. I need to tell Asher that.

Morning Has Come

September 12th, 2025

Asher and I arrived at the school a bit early. I parked down the street and got out of the car to go around and help Asher out of his child seat. As I walked, a Black lady called to me. She was sitting on a chair near the curb. She looked at me and asked,

“Sir, do you got any change?”

I paused for a moment, and then I dug out my wallet. I had a five in there. I pulled it out and handed to the woman. She thanked me. I asked her what her name was. She replied,

“Tiffany.”

I told her, “I hope you have a good day, Tiffany.”

As I went to Asher and unbuckled the harness on his child seat. He asked me,

“Grandpa, what did you just do?”

“I gave the lady some money.”

“Why?”

“Because she doesn’t have any money.”

“Do you have any more money?”

“”No, not any paper money, but I can get some more.”

Asher told me, “That’s good, Grandpa. I want you to have money.”

The lady smiled at Asher as we walked past her. People often smile at Asher.

We walked down the block to the Waldorf school. The teachers and the aides were busy setting up cones in the parking lot. The cones are numbered to indicate the class. Before classes officially start at 8:00 AM, all the students line up by their respective cones in the lot. There is a certain amount of foolishness and horseplay, but the teachers keep the kids mostly in order.

At 7:50, an adult rings a bell (or shouts) for everyone to settle down. Then everyone is supposed to recite a verse in unison. That’s how every day is supposed to begin at the Waldorf school. It doesn’t quite happen that way. I have yet to meet anybody at the school, even among faculty members, who knows the verse by heart. That is not really a problem. Each person knows enough of the verse that it all comes together when multiple persons recite it.

It goes like this:

“Morning has come. Night is away. We rise with the sun, and we welcome the day.”

That portion is sung, twice. Then the last part is spoken verse.

“I strive to learn, to learn to give, to give my heart to all I see. I see that I, with heart aflame, am a flame of love that can light the world.”

That’s a damn good verse.