The Meaning of Life by Patch

This is not the “strange and bookish” thing promised in the prior post; the fog still abounds. But in a way, this is stranger. This is my youngest daughter, Patch, age nine-point-seven-five, unprompted, at government school, writing down some thoughts:

The Meaning of Life

6-5-18

The meaning of life can’t be put into a simple thought. The meaning of life is bigger than a family, a job, the world, perhaps. The meaning of life is only known by God, and man can only assume what the secret to it is. God gives us a reason to live – in fact, a meaning. I suspect that life is a test. A test of intelligence, courage, bravery, kindness, and fairness. You can’t necessarily fail, but you can restart and reconstruct your life. If you “pass” then the life of the grand is yours. You could have earned the grand life if it was the seventh try. Nevertheless, at some point, many people think they know the meaning of life, but alas, only God know that secret.

Couple of thoughts –                

First, she’s nine years old. When I was nine, I was drawing pictures with my stencil of flying saucers zapping World War II soldiers. Though I did start reading slim SF paperbacks around this time. Robert Silverberg’s Conquerors from the Darkness was read when I was her age. But I didn’t know nuthin’ about meaning of life stuff.

Second, God. Thank God our government schools haven’t squashed God out of her, though I’m sure her fourth grade teacher is NOT ALLOWED to give her thoughts on the Supreme Being.

Third, I think the writing gene has been passed on yet again – first to Little One, now to Patch. May they have much more success than their dad has had. Which should be a fairly easy task to accomplish, as they have fifty-percent of their mom in those genes, too.