I was sitting outside with my classroom of babies. Next to me was my sweet volunteer grandmother who comes daily to help hold babies. She’s a bodacious gorgeous elderly black woman who has my heart stuck to hers. We watched a biracial child in the next playground crying. A sweet blonde little girl came and hugged her. Another black little girl hugged both of them. They are about 3 and 4 years old. They consoled one another in the most empathetic humanitarian way.My gramma and I started to cry. We began to talk about compassion. She said to me, “Now you know if them babies’ parents were here they might not be so loving with each other!”“Oh, sweetheart, I hope you are wrong. I know kids don’t see colors. They see love and kindness. And those little girls have grown up in homes that have taught them to reach out to others when they are hurting regardless of the color of their skin!”She cleaned her tears. I cleaned mine as we continued watching three little girls hugging and moving around together.“I hope these children light the way to our future generations.” I held her arm as I said it.She put her head against mine, “Gurrllll! Me too. Change has to come. It has to happen. Cut all of us open and see that we the same inside. Same color runs through our bodies. There ain’t no difference of race.”We must continue to teach love and acceptance to our children. I am witnessing new stories and experiences now. I’ve gone from stories of times behind us to stories in front of us. I’ve worked with the elderly population. I’ve been among those suffering with severe mental illness. I have had the privilege to see the worst and best in humanity. Now I’m reliving the beauty of innocence and how simply magical they see the world. All that’s common is the thread of love and compassion.In the end all we want is love...to be accepted without judgment...and feel a sense of belonging.