There is another blizzard coming. I am already tense anticipating it. But the children in my life are not. They are less prone to worrying about what may be, and are enthralled with living today. The sewing students this week chatted about birthdays and blue fabric and how it reminds them of the ocean. 

Shouldn't they be concerned like me? 

It seems their trust precludes things like squirreling away sandwiches in case there is a famine, or buying socks three sizes too big. Just in case. 

Today is actually a pretty day, cold but sparkling white and yet it is easy for me to ignore that in my earnestness about what is around the corner.

Shirley Temple died today. My daughter Hope assured me that she went to heaven.

"She spent so much time making people happy and singing, I am just sure she is an angel now. Plus she was an ambassador and tried to help countries get along with each other." 

My mother explained to me the context in which Shirley's popularity soared. The country was mired in poverty, and movies like The Little Princess and Bright Eyes gave them back a slice of hope. If only for an hour, watchers could believe that a little girl with curls could soften the grist of an old miser, or find her lost father in a hospital ward. 

Maybe I could be more like the children. Because in terms of eternity, I am very, very young.