I feel that we are in but the kindergarten stage of existence, learning the first lessons of Life--fitting ourselves for the grander, broader, fuller life in store for us. And I feel that this little kindergarten experience will continue until we have learned its lessons well--have firmly grasped the principles designed for our baby minds. And I feel that when we have proven our ability to weave our little mats--build our little blocks--draw our little pictures--mold our little clay forms--sing our little songs--then, and not until then, will we pass into a higher grade, where we will spell out the lines of the Primer of Life, and acquire the elementary principles of Cosmic Mathematics. And I feel that each little lesson must be learned, thoroughly, before the next step is taken. And I feel that every one of us must perform his own task--must memorize his own lesson--before he can gain the experience--can profit by the knowledge acquired in the performance of the task. We may be inspired by some brighter pupil--be encouraged by the loving sympathy of some fellow-scholar, but the task is _ours_ to perform, sooner or later--and ours is the joy of accomplishment. I believe that as some children, even whilst fascinated by the game-task of the kindergarten, know that it is only a childish task and not the _real thing_ of life, so may we come to a point, where, whilst enjoying the constantly changing play of life, we will realize that it is but the training for greater things, and important only in that sense. The perception of this fact by the child need not interfere with his interest in the game--need not prevent him from feeling the joy of _doing_, creating, working, gaining new experiences; nor need it prevent _us_ from playing the kindergarten games of grown-up life with a zest and interest, not alone because we realize that we are learning valuable lessons, but, yea, even from the very excitement and joy of the game itself. When we realize just what this view of Life means, we will find new pleasures in everyday life--will learn to laugh with childish glee at our little successes in molding the clay into the desired shape--in the clever weaving of the mat. And we will learn to smile, through our tears, if our little mat happens to tear in two--if our little clay sphere drops to the floor and is shattered--if the hour's work is destroyed.