I was talking just yesterday with a young woman (now 24) who was almost my 'step daughter' a few years back. I was telling her how encouraged I feel for the future of the world when I reflect upon the younger people I know, and how utterly amazing they all are.

When my son was a child, he and his friends didn't play any kind of organized games. They created whole worlds. They had worlds up in the maple trees beside the house. They had very special, magical worlds in the corn field behind the house. Even the stairway in the house was converted to a world of its own when playing outside wasn't possible. And then of course there was the formula kitchen in the basement... I lost some good stainless steel bowls to the monsterous concoctions created in that place, but they were a small sacrifice for the cause of creativity.

I was just an occassional observer, but I feel that the magic and wonder of that play, and of those worlds, enriched my adult life in ways that I might not ever have expected.

With a feeling of poignant nostalgia, I can hear the sound of my son's childlike voice even now, saying, "Eric, let's petend..."