fountain of youth.

You know how the saying goes: "If I had a nickel for every time __[insert circumstance]__, I'd be rich."

Well, I think if I had even just a penny for every time I can attribute my personal success to something I learned through my experience with the Ohio Association of Student Councils (OASC), I'd have ended world hunger by now. 

Handle a tough situation, make a new friend, stand up for what I believe in, be silly in a crowd full of boring-ness... you name it, and OASC has taught me how to do it, or given me the courage to learn for myself. And though this post could easily pass as a shameless plug for a non-profit with which I am in love, (and I mean that, IN LOVE), the truth of it is that OASC is the foundational inspiration for this blog.

I said in my first post that sooner rather than later I would write about the people who had introduced me to the wonderful world of children's books and movies, and how they end up teaching us adults some pretty important things, too. Miss Connie Miley introduced me to Mr. Magorium's Wonder Emporium and a host of other fan favorites. Mr. John Namey is a Polar Express expert, among other things. Molls & Ash helped me bring Love You Forever to our favorite teens... the list goes on.

The bottom line is that I've got this history of great people who helped me learn and teach great life lessons to others because they were intelligent and insightful enough to see the value of childhood in adulthood. I mean, it should be easy enough for all of us to see and do. But, I think it's pretty apparent that most adults quickly forget some... well, most... of those important childhood lessons. (As if it's only children who are childish and immature. Hm.)

Below is an excerpt from Sanders and Sillers' I Hope You Dance. This darling little book came out right around the time Lee Ann Womack's song by the same title became immensely popular. The book is one of my personal favorites, and tonight, this particular piece goes out as a tribute and "thank you" to my OASCers. All of you. Wherever you are. However old (or young) you may be. I owe you for teaching me that age is just a number, and that magic exists in so many forms in so many ways throughout each stage of life. I think this will hit home for each of you...

Ah, youth... new skin, wide smiles, 
clear eyes... the future so bright.
If only we could bottle it up, sip it now and again, 
and stay forever twenty-one,
forever ten, forever five.

I liked being five.

But I'd also like to think that time and age are like cousins-
they're relative. 
Who said you have to go by actual miles? 
If you didn't know how old you were, how old would you be? 
(Me, I'm sticking with five.)

I'll even argue that you can bottle youth. 
What you store it in is all up to you. 
(I suggest your heart.)
If you can figure out a way to keep the energy and gumption and fire alive,
you'll always stay young.
And where there's youth, there's hope...
where there's hope, there's wonder...
where there's wonder, there's faith...
where there's faith, there's chance...
where there's chance, there's love...
where there's love, there's music...

and dancing.