When you're dealing with a multitude of unwelcome challenges in a particular year, there's nothing like a little holiday cheer from a bevy of innocents, like my Wisconsin friend Annie's brood. These are the children that Mary Poppins and Nanny McPhee long for. Unspoiled, charming, funny, and highly entertaining. It was during a frigid late December day that they warmed me with their antics and loving nature. They sang, they danced, they played music, they drew, and they hula-hooped, all with great enthusiasm. Well into our day together, we did our inevitable art project, around the massive kitchen counter. The second in line of the troupe, Kate, 5, went full out, with great confidence, dashing off one creation after another, while simultaneously belting out "Girls Just Wanna Have Fun."
Lauren, 8, was more cautious and self-critical. She glanced over at my work, accordingly tossed her pages aside and kept attempting new creations, not satisfied with any. I suggested to her that she should let any mistakes go, and just keep working on the same page, or at least turn the same sheet of paper over, and use the other side. She initially did not welcome this suggestion. She even questioned my recommendation, with the astute observation, "But you're not my mother." And I responded, gently but matter-of-factly, "But I am a teacher, and I might have some good ideas."
You see, I am more like Lauren than Kate. I know what it is to be the oldest girl of a large bunch -- to not always be free to just let go, fill the page, and let it all settle out as it will, all the while singing with abandon to anyone within earshot. I so wanted Lauren to avoid the self doubts and, at times, disproportionate sense of responsibility that is typically inherent to the oldest of the family. I was coming from a place of empathy, rather than didacticism. I thought that my "words of wisdom" were likely soon forgotten. Not so. Shortly after returning, via The City of New Orleans, to my Mandeville home, I received a touching missive from Lauren. In reiterating my own admonishment back to me, I realized that it was once again, out of the mouths of babes, from which true wisdom flows. 
Because, life is MESSY and even though we are all inclined to try to throw away our pages and start over, again and again -- before ever finishing the first ones -- all we can REALLY do is keep on doing our best, but accept that THAT will never be perfect. Rather than letting those imperfections paralyze us in self doubt and sometimes even despondency, we all have to keep on making every effort to fill up our pages, every single day. Some of those days will seem like there is overwhelming illness, loss, pain, confusion,and sadness. I know I am in that spot right now. But there is always some space on that page for even a smidgeon of hope, joy, gratitude. So, from Lauren to me to you, here's to a life of pages, full and messy and beautiful. 
