As we were driving home late one evening in August, we passed three young girls. They were all about ten years old or so. They were standing on a mound of dirt that was about three foot high and just big enough for them all to stand on. Each girl had her right fist raised into the air. They stared, solemnly, straight ahead; their eyes did not connect with the traffic they were facing.
We did not stop to ask what they were protesting, but I think about it a lot. Given their age and time of year, they could have been protesting boys or the beginning of the school year. Maybe they were protesting something much more serious like the slaughter of baby seals or childhood’s end.
What ever they were protesting, I admire their courage and determination. I hope they continue to stand for what they believe in and to protest what they don’t. As the song says, “may they be, forever young.”
