For all those who have lost a child, this is beautiful, by Alexander Ivanovich Herzen, a Russian radical of the mid 19th century whose beloved seven-year old son drowned in a boat accident: “Because children grow up, we think a child’s purpose is to grow up. But a child’s purpose is to be a child. Nature doesn’t disdain what lives only for a day. It pours the whole of itself into each moment. We don’t value the lily less for not being made of flint. Life’s bounty is in its flow. Where is the song when it’s been sung? The dance when it’s been danced? Was the child happy when he or she lived? That is a proper question, the only question.”