If I could go back twenty-three years to the time when my daughter, Nikky, was four, with all clarity and absolute memory, I still could not count the times she said, "How does it do that?" When she was not yet four, I remember her in our little kitchen on Massachusetts Avenue describing to me something she wanted to invent. With her hands in quick motion, she showed me exactly how it would work. At that age, she said, "I want to be an inventor when I grow up." In many ways, she is just that. 
Her question comes to mind as I move through March with a rapidness that leaves my head spinning and an awe for the rich world blooming around me. Daily, as I drive to work or walk through town, I look at the beauty, subtle one day then bold the next, and I ask myself Nikky's question with the same wonder she expressed, "How does it do that?"
Their eyes saw his glorious majesty, and their ears heard the glory of his voice. Sirach 17:13
Peace. Love, Linda
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