During Sunday's service, our minister read a poem by Rumi, the Persian mystical poet who lived during the 13th century.
Also during this point of the service one of my rather tall 9 year olds decided the only place he would sit was on my lap. His back pressed against my chest, his head laying on my ear, he gave a running commentary as she read the poem (his commentary in italics):
“Which is Worth More?” by Rumi
Which is worth more, a crowd of thousands,
or your own genuine solitude?
"Solitude!" he suddenly uttered in a loud whisper.
Freedom, or power over an entire nation?
"Freedom." he whispered in a what-are-you-stupid? tone of voice.
A little while alone in your room
Will prove more valuable than anything else
That could ever be given to you.
"Alone in my room" he repeated, in a reverent whisper.