Friday, May 28, 2004
Cross-Cultural SackySackness
OK, so they had to go to the town dump to get the plastic bags and they're not really making a Sacky Sack. So they're going to cover it with scraps and make it into a soccerworthy joy for-relatively-ever, and my Sacky Sack stops with the last sack. Though I sometimes put them into panty hose.
But the connection is there. And immediate. And I can feel it. And I am honored. As if I had been handed a kind of a Peace Prize for Play. To experience, in my moments of gleeful Sacky Sack making, that we are of the same spirit and in the same world, playing together, the children of Burundi and I.













