Parallel Lives

Look and Fix

In the morning, you look in the mirror.
Oh! Your hair sticks up.
There is jam on your chin.

You don’t get mad at the mirror.
You don’t cry at the mirror.
You just fix one thing.

Look and fix.
Say it with me: look and fix.

Now think of someone good.
Maybe Grandma, who always shares.
Maybe your teacher, who is fair.
Maybe a friend who helps.

That good person is a mirror too.

Your brother takes your truck.
You want to yell and grab.
What would Grandma do?
Grandma would take a big breath.
Grandma would ask for a turn.

So you look at Grandma in your head.
And you fix one thing.
You take a big breath too.

Look and fix.

You don’t have to be Grandma.
You are still you.
The mirror just helps you see.

Some days you won’t fix it.
That’s okay.
Everybody gets jam on their chin.
Tomorrow you look again.

Look and fix.

Today, think of someone good.
Then fix one small thing.

A note for the grown-up

For the grown-up reading aloud: Plutarch said he kept writing these lives for his own sake, using good people’s virtues “as a sort of looking-glass” to see how to adjust his own life. The mirror is his image, kept because a child already owns one. The fence is in the last beats: one small fix at a time, and never becoming someone else.

Enough

You build a tower.
Block on block on block.
It gets so tall!
You feel so proud.

One more block, says your hand.
One more. One more.

The tower wobbles.
Wobble, wobble.
Crash!

Wanting to build is good.
Wanting made the tower tall.
But wanting didn’t know when to stop.

There is a word that helps.
Enough.
Say it with me: enough.

It is a strong word.
Big people forget it too.
Long ago, kings forgot it.
They wanted more and more land.
Some of them lost everything.

Enough cake. Your tummy is full.
Enough game. Your eyes are tired.
Enough tower. It is tall and good.

Enough doesn’t mean no more fun.
It means this is good.
I can keep it.

Your hand says one more?
Look at your tall tower.
Say the strong word.
Enough.

A note for the grown-up

For the grown-up reading aloud: The Lives keep returning to men whose greatest strength, the hunger for honor and more, had no brake: Pyrrhus winning battles that cost him his army, Crassus marching on Parthia, Alexander and Caesar. The primer keeps only the brake. Wanting and building stay good, so the child doesn’t learn that ambition itself is bad.

Little Things Show

Big things are easy to see.
A big jump. A big win.
Everybody claps.

But little things show who you are.
Say it with me: little things show.

A friend drops her crayons.
Nobody is looking.
You help pick them up.

That is a little thing.
It shows you are kind.

You wait your turn on the slide.
You give the last grape away.
Those are little things too.

Little things show.

Here is a grown-up secret.
Want to know a new friend?
Don’t just watch the big jump.
Watch the little things.
Does she share?
Does he wait his turn?

You don’t have to be perfect.
Everyone forgets to share sometimes.
Even you. Even grown-ups.

Then you try again,
with one little thing.

Little things show who you are.
Today, do one little kind thing.
Nobody has to clap.

A note for the grown-up

For the grown-up reading aloud: This is the method Plutarch states at the start of his Alexander: a small act, a word or a joke often shows character better than the greatest battles. For a child it becomes a way to notice kindness, in friends and in themselves. It isn’t meant as being watched all the time, and the big brave things still count.