When I walked down the hall toward the preschool for singing, my heart was heavy. The news both globally and locally included aspects that felt like iron boots, and if music with four year olds was not already on my schedule, I would not have been up for it. 

 

But stepping into the room to their expectant faces pushed aside the lethargy, like how the afternoon sun can make short work of the last patches of dirty snow. 

 

I did my brief scan of the images on their shirts and leggings. There were some especially frilly dresses that morning, because why save them for a special occasion? Life is a special occasion. Unicorns were emblazoned on the clothes of two girls, and a few others did not think it was too soon for Valentine wear. We did a string of favorites, like the Elephant Song, and Old McDonald. The routine is such that each student gets to name an animal, and this week the menagerie included a couple of creatures I did not already know. A Golden lion tamarin was new to me and I needed help to know what sound it even makes. Isn't that a sweet turn of events when I am learning from the preschoolers? 

 

Their eagerness to march in a circle for the Walls of Jericho, moved me. The story, which is mostly irrelevant to them, describes how an impenetrable wall comes crashing down by God's intervention. These small people do not believe in walls, or let them stand in the way. We grown-ups, though, succumb to divisions that seem much too high to scale. At the end of the song, the children tumble in a heap, and I pictured the divisions I am stymied by being toppled somehow too. 

 

I guess preschoolers can teach me about more than monkeys.