I love watching my wife at her work.

She teaches first grade and it is a great joy for me to sneak into the classroom occasionally and observe a master at work. It is especially wonderful if I show up right before class is let out for the day.

The kids all race to gather up their things and line up by the door. Then each kid in turn gets a big hug from their teacher before they leave.

Arms outstretched, one by one, they come.

The good, the bad and the ugly.

They all get one, no matter what happened during the course of the day to anger, alienate or assail.

I will sit in the corner and watch this ritual and wonder when it is in our lives that hugging no longer seems appropriate.

When does it become foolish or funny or odd?

I wonder if it happens about the same time we start holding onto things for dear life?