Sunday, January 29, 2012

ordinary extraordinary

I wrote this in December but never put it here. Here it is. She had a marvelous time.

Today is extraordinarily ordinary.

In a room that was once known as the Large Unfinished Room and is now known as the East Room -

a room where the wife of a president did laundry,
where troops bivouacked,
where an explorer resided,
where presidential daughters married,
where a son played with goats and where that son's father later laid in state after he was assassinated,
where the Civil Rights Act was signed,
where Sunday services were held,
where a president wrestled

in that very room El,
an ordinary, extraordinary girl,
will play her oboe today.
She may hit a few bad notes and struggle to stay in tune,
but she will also play brilliantly and her joy and her smile will light the room.
I am humbled today with the thought that any ordinary person,
regardless of the location of the room in which they do their best at what ever they do,
is free to be extraordinary.