The children were released into the large open space, given a respite from the ordering of their day-- the lining up, the counting off, the sitting still, the demand for quietness. They looked, now free, like doves taking to the sky, like the fluff of dandelions caught and scattered by the wind. They ran and ran, here to there, and back again. Their only destination the movement itself, kinesthetic joy and salvation. There is wisdom here, I thought. A truth, but I could not remember it.
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