2 stories

I spent Friday in Houston, bettering myself. I went to the museum and the zoo, and both turned out to be profound experiences.

I saw Lucy yesterday. She was amazing. The entire exhibit was okay - but I hardly noticed the treasures of Ethiopia because of my anticipation for the climax. We walked into a small room where there were replicas and a model of what she might have looked like, and an amazing mural depicting the life of humanity. And there she was, right in the middle, laid out in a glass case. I just stared. She was so familiar, but still very foreign. It made an impression I can't describe. But, even more awe-inspiring was the reaction from other people. There were about 20 kids in there on a school trip. I'd guess 4th graders. And most of them were simply interested in filling in their worksheets and moving on. But one little boy stared at her for a while, then looked to his friend. "Do you think in a million years they will dig me up?" he asked. "And if they did, would I be this important?" I was so impressed by the profundity of his question. And later that day, Carl and I pondered the same thing - and talked about the history of people and our futures. It was a great deal to think about.

Then we went to the zoo, which has been a favorite thing of mine since high school. And there was lots to see and even some things I had never seen before - but there was one minute that truly took my breath away. We were looking in at the orangatans through a glass window. The had a large open space so you could stand outside and look over them or go down some stairs to ground level and look in through a large window, of sorts. We were looking in that window. There was a baby there, very intent on playing with his toys. He had a blanket that was clearly very worn and very important to him. And his mother never strayed far away. While we watched the baby the mother began to move around. She walked right in front of us, then stopped. She stared in at the little girl next to us. The girl's name was Elizabeth. And this mother just stared at her - not upset, not afraid, not excited - just stared at her. The girl put her face to the glass and the mother reached up, but then moved on. It was an amazing thing to watch. Then, the baby started moving about. He picked up one of his toys, a plastic bucket, and began moving toward the glass. There were a few people standing and watching, oohing and aahing, but the babe came and stopped right in front of me. He watched my every move. He looked so curious. Then he put his hand up to the window and laid it there. I put my hand up, too, and we sat there, for just a few seconds, hand to hand through the glass. Then he picked up his toy and lifted it toward me - like he wanted me to take it from him. He bumped the glass a few times, still looking right at me, then moved away. But instead of running off, he went and picked up his blanket. By this time a small crowd had gathered and was watching the both of us. The baby brought his blanket over and stood in front of me for another moment. Then he moved on and stood in front of a group of kids who were squaling with excitement, but he wouldn't touch the glass. He seemed wary of the children. Finally, we decided to go. The baby moved toward us, then stopped, and watched us as we left. And I couldn't help but smile - I had made a new friend.