...up to my elbows in clay.....
...our art classroom (we call it the studio, even has a sign over the door) is humming with happy children
...tiny hands squeezing bits of clay into expressions of whimsy
...the happy music is playing on the teacher's boom box ( the one she exchanged for her wedding rings at the pawn shop nine years ago
...it's a messy task creating something from a little lump of sticky earth
...his little face transfixed as he reshapes the sea turtle's mouth, adds a bit of a smirk, she thinks...not unlike his own when he's in his mischievous mood
...little Sandra is frustrated with her sunflower medallion, not delicate enough, she thinks but her art teacher says it's beautiful and Sandra glows
...it's the messy stuff in life that generates the sweetest rewards...gifts for our soul that keep us and sustain us through the tough times
..I'm up to my elbows in clay...the kind you scoop from the earth at the waters edge and the kind you scoop up and wrap in a blanket to love and nurture
...today my studio rocked with happy content pieces of clay...what will they become in the future?
... Will they remember there days with me fondly?
... Will they remember the sensation of wet malleable clay between their fingers and the art teacher who thought their creations were fabulous?
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