Each spring, for many years, I have set myself the task of writing a personal statement of belief: a Credo.
The next time I will tell you about frogs; Miss Emily Phipps; a sign in a grocery store in Pocatello, Idaho; the most disastrous wedding of all time; a Greek phrase, asbests gelos (unquenchable laughter); the Salvation Navy; the man who knew then what he knows now; the smallest circus in the world; the truth about high school; and the time when the bed was on fire when I lay down on it; and
Most of what I really need to know about how to live and what to do and how to be I learned in kindergarten. Wisdom was not at the top of the graduate-school mountain, but there in the sandpile at Sunday School. These are the things I learned:
Don't hit people
Put things back where you found them.
Clean up your own mess
Don't take things that aren't yours
Say your sorry when you hurt somebody
Wash your hands before you eat
Warm cookies and Cold milk are good for you
Live a balanced life
Take a nap every afternoon
When you go out into the world, watch out for traffic, hold hands, stick together