A Bit of Philosophy

All of you are making memorie-some of you are even writing them down. As you age ( something none of you want to consider) you will find some of these memoriee hard to bring to mind, but they are there--waiting.

From Frrederick Buechner: I pick the children up at the bottom of the mountain where the orange bus lets them off in the wind.They run for the car like leaves blowing.Not for keeps, to be sure, but at least for the time being the world has given them back again and whatever the world chooses to do later on, it can never so much as lay a hand on the having-beenness of this time. The past is involiate. We are none of us safe, but everything that has happend is safe. In all the vast and empty reaches of the universe it can never be otherwise than that when the orange bus stopped with its red lights blinking two children were on it. Their noses were running. One of them dropped a sweater. I drove them home