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Rising and Falling

They sat on the little girl’s bed. All the things of the world arose from the dark, cautiously, then suddenly: there, shining out in the shine, morning. She was 9.

“I don’t want to go to school, Mommy! I’m afraid to go to school!”


“Because there’s a quiz and I won’t know the answers! It’s too hard!”

“Oh, baby. It won’t be so hard. You wanna know what’s harder than not knowing the answers?”


“Being a little girl who’s afraid of not knowing the answers.”


“Sitting here in your cozy pajamas on your comfortable bed. Talking to your sweet mother and breathing, too. Over and over constantly breathing. Now that’s hard.”

“No it’s not.”

“Let’s make breakfast.”