I’ve always wondered what was meant by Jesus, even back at elementary school. Surely, a guy like him wouldn’t very likely be a pedophile, so it had to be something else. But I had to live another forty years or so, to get  an inkling of the concept that is as old as our calendar. Way older actually, because the Gregorian calendar was actually only decreed in 1582, February 24.

This is a story of vibration. "Big Deal!", I hear you say, "everything is vibration", and you are right. But I only noticed it in the last few year, where living as a single, I noticed a steady influx of way more children than adults in my humble abode. Having two daughters would of course be the normal 3D explanation for this, but personally, I sense a distinct change in the energies, whenever kids are around.

At this moment, four of them are here, my two ladies and a few neighborhood friends. But the weird thing is, kids not even friends with my daughters get dragged overhere as well. The friend here today brought his cousin, who doesn’t even live close. 

My involvement in all this? Making sure there are refreshments in the fridge, and the occasional snack. Sometimes, for instance during movie nights, the kids ever bring their own, and we rearrange the furniture so the home theatre system really works out. Watching them enjoy themselves is one of the most soothing experiences I  know. I am just the host, seen and seldom heard, who pours the drinks, makes the snacks, and is generally available for queries about the movies. 

Frankly, I feel like Michael Jackson sometimes: wondering what others might think of the endless stream of kids entering and leaving my home.  But at the same time, I don’t care: None of these kids will ever testify against me, because they are drawn here by something other than a dirty old guy with a taste for young flesh. They are here, because here is cool, a place where you can be yourself, without anybody telling you what to do or what not to do. Is it total chaos? No, I do sometimes warn them to turn the TV down, just to make sure the neighbors don’t have to complain. But basically, these kids know how to behave themselves, and work out their differences way faster than most adults do!

Similarly, I once ended up in the cantina of the local social workplace. All those there were what society calls retarded, or otherwise cerebrally impaired. Being my normal jovial self, I started talking to one of them, but was absolutely not prepared for the effect that that conversation would have: within minutes, all other conversations in the room ended, and all attention was focused at me! That event held the same vibration as the kids in my place, only ten times stronger.

Am I something special? Based on this, I would have to conclude I was, but at the same time I have this absolute conviction that I am no more special than any of you. And if you look around you, you might also notice those very subtle changes around you.

Love your Child,

Dre’