A Mirabilary Of The Passing Parade: Happiness

Reflection might be the one human quality that separates us from bugs and baboons. As a student, I worked for several years in a Catholic orphanage; not out of any altruism, but for the sake of tuition that might otherwise not be paid. Eventually, I moved on to other things, but for decades dreamt about those kids, often awaking with a start wondering what became of them. These weren’t happy dreams, they were anxious dreams. At some point, midst a career unrelated to the detritus of broken families, I realized that those few years helping kids was a high water mark in ocean of meaningless pursuits. After that burst of light, I dreamt of Tiny Tims no more.

“God bless us, everyone.”