Adelaide Crapsey must have been very much in love when she wrote this poem to the moon
O mia Luna! Porta mi fortuna!
(You must say it nine times, curtseying, and then wish.)
In rose-pale, fading blue of twilight sky,
See, the new moon’s thin crescent shining clear;
Nine times I’ll curtsey murmuring mystic words, –
And wish good fortune to our love, my dear.
All right, it’s not the same moon. But it’s a blue moon, and I keep wishing it will bring some love and peace to the world.
As I went to wish my grandchildren good luck with the new school year that starts tomorrow, I kept thinking what kind of love and peace will they enjoy in the coming years. Tamar was the only one I managed to speak with about school, and she didn’t sound pleased at all with her near future. There aren’t too many surprises: She already knows the teacher from last year, and the class celebrated his marriage with a video months ago. And she sounds bored already.
My sixth grade teacher, on the other hand, Miss Lee, was antisemitic, and placed the four jews in her class of thirty together in a corner. She never called on us, and made sure we didn’t get speaking parts in the school play. I only discovered I had a brain in seventh grade when Mr. Cruikshank let me write plays and direct them for the class.
Moral: a warm atmosphere elicits creativity and warmth.