I wrote this story about the life and eventual death of my sister, during one of the most difficult and imbalanced moments of my life. I sat in a church parking lot, having arrived an hour too early for the meeting, and in the midst of my own confusion for the direction of my life, this story possessed my heart and soul. In one hour, I wrote it all down and cried until I laugh as my sister seemed to sit with me again and bring my back into life balance. Perhaps this is just the story you need to hear at this moment? If so, my you find tears of laughter.

This story is about the rules we learn early in our life through our games on playgrounds that eventually become the divisions in the wider society we live in as adults. Here is an excerpt:

Elementary playgrounds are not as innocent as they are often imagined to be. It was there among the multi-colored slides and merry-go-rounds that I learned how to accept, judge, compare, stereotype, forgive and even fear other human beings. It was at recess, twice a day, that I experienced human behavior at its absolute best. It was also there, running back and forth on the blacktop, that I discovered the worst of what we can be when we allow our differences to drive us apart.

Things we learn in elementary school are often the most lasting because they occur long before we perceive we are making choices about who we are or who we are going to be. Our understandings of the rules of the wider society seep deep into our consciousness in the midst of play and therefore, sidestep our normal internal alarms and suspicions. These ways of, and rules for, treating other people don’t seem so important or serious because they are just part of playing a game.

Sometimes the people we meet early on in our life stay with us as we experience the rest of our life. We were never a large group of church friends and perhaps the fact that our numbers rarely exceeded a dozen, made those days together even more memorable and worthy of a story. With all groups of people who grow up together, some drifted away and others joined us later in our adventures. However, most of those who, in church language, shared in cookie communion together in that nursery, were still there when it came time to be released into the wider world following our graduation from high school.