After reading in the New York Times about the valor of Sergeant John Chapman who fought alone on an Afghan mountaintop for more than an hour before his death, I went outside to clear my head and I saw my neighbor taking a picture of her two young children on their first day of school.  I had felt the world was a bitter, ugly place; and then I realized that I was wrong, that the world is full of beauty.  Although I shall never know the details of Sergeant Chapman’s family beyond the brief description of what he did on that mountaintop on the other side of the world from where I live in peace, that he had two daughters back in the States yet he chose to give up his own life to save his comrades, that he is remembered by those who fought with him as a gentle, good man… Life is good. 

Early this morning I was treated to a glimpse at an old ritual that I hadn’t forgotten, but had placed so far back in my mind that I felt as if I were seeing it for the first time.  My young neighbors were getting ready to go off to school, the first day of first grade for them… a new year in a new school… and they were standing patiently while their mother got a picture of them.  I horned in and got my picture for the day.  What beauties they are.  Later in the day I got a look at two other beauties.  The first one is the word beauty being painted red in North Park. The other is sunset from the patio of the fourth floor apartment that will become our home next week.  Life is good!