I Am He / Who

Who Could Deny That Privacy Is A Jewel? It Has Always Been The Mark Of Privilege, The Distinguishing Feature Of A Truly Urbane Culture. Out Of The Cave, The Tribal Teepee, The Pueblo, The Community Fortress, Man Emerged To Build Himself A House Of His Own With A Shelter In It For Himself And His Diversions. Every Age Has Seen It So. The Poor Might Have To Huddle Together In Cities For Need's Sake, And The Frontiersman Cling To His Neighbors For The Sake Of Protection. But In Each Civilization, As It Advanced, Those Who Could Afford It Chose The Luxury Of A Withdrawing-place.

God Knows That A Mother Needs Fortitude And Courage And Tolerance And Flexibility And Patience And Firmness And Nearly Every Other Brave Aspect Of The Human Soul. But Because I Happen To Be A Parent Of Almost Fiercely Maternal Nature, I Praise Casualness. It Seems To Me The Rarest Of Virtues. It Is Useful Enough When Children Are Small. It Is Useful To The Point Of Necessity When They Are Adolescents.

Meanness Inherits A Set Of Silverware And Keeps It In The Bank. Economy Uses It Only On Important Occasions, For Fear Of Loss. Thrift Sets The Table With It Every Night For Pure Pleasure, But Counts The Butter Spreaders Before They Are Put Away.

O, Merry Is The Optimist, With The Troops Of Courage Leaguing. But A Dour Trend In Any Friend Is Somehow Less Fatiguing.

Praise Is Warming And Desirable. But It Is An Earned Thing. It Has To Be Deserved, Like A Hug From A Child.