September 3, 2023, Black Forest, CO- The ball cap fluttered down from the dining hall balcony, with a gleeful pair of bright blue eyes following its progress. While the adults and older kids were busy talking among themselves, the three-year-old weaved his way across the balcony and down the stairs, retrieving the cap-and exploring the recess under the platform. He was soon joined by an adventurous friend, who came back out, a few minutes later, to announce the presence of Black Widow spiders in the alcove. Jack was unperturbed. The main thing was, his curiosity was satisfied.
He, and the other children present at our gathering, are creatures of agency. They have been granted such, by the wiser among the parents, grandparents and those of us who are uncles and aunts-either familial or by dint of inclination. We claim agency for ourselves as well-so it is natural that this be extended the future generations. The old saw, “Be kind to your children. They will be choosing your nursing home”, comes from far deeper sentiments. I can’t imagine being less than kind, or acting unloving-not in the past forty-four years, not even in the days of my own intemperance, impatience and insecurity.
Our lives matter, from the inception, the conception, of our souls. They matter until we have drawn our last breath, and long afterward, as the memories of those lives inform the decisions and actions of our descendants-both biological and societal.
Thus will Jack, and his friend, Astrid, and all those older and younger than they, make their will known, triumph from the decisions they make that are wise and forward-thinking and learn from those of their decisions that are not so.
It was this set of thoughts that rang most prominently, throughout a far more welcoming and affirming day at camp.


