Jones and I are standing on the sidewalk and I am asking him about his dream from the previous night.<\/p>\n

What was it about, Jones?\u00a0
\nSanta.
\nWhat was he doing?
\nHe was bringing presents.
\nDid you get to open any?
\nYes! There were chocolate eggs, and inside of them was apple juice!<\/span><\/p>\n

This is what a child not yet four dreams of. Miracles of pleasure. This boy, wearing rain gear that looks like a yellow hazmat suit. Wearing hockey pants and helmet, a pair of astronaut gloves.<\/p>\n

He is still magic. He can do anything, everything before him still unbroken and emerging. The world and all beyond it, a field of potential just waiting to be ignited. It’s as if his vitality commands it, as if life must bend toward him.<\/p>\n

A skunk emerges from some shrubbery, it’s long claws exploring something on a patch of green.<\/p>\n

Jones is fascinated by this creature. He kneels down, gets smaller, tries to become the animal.<\/p>\n

I tell Jones of the skunk’s superpower.<\/p>\n

Tell him that every living thing has a superpower. But Jones was born with this knowledge. He wants to know other things.<\/p>\n

Daddy, what happens to orange pop when it grows up?
\nI don’t know, what do you think?
\nI think it lives in the sky and becomes the sun all around.<\/p>\n

In this world, everything always turning into light.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"