Spending an afternoon in a gently lit room full of babies once a week is a revelation to me. There are no computers or cell phones in this room. The youngest babies don't yet crawl. The oldest is close to a year old and seems to be the tiniest of all. The babies say so much without speaking words. They are especially focused when they hear the sound of a little bell that hangs from the light fixture in the middle of the peaceful room. They laugh and they cry. They sleep. They play with the toys. They look deeply at everything. They look outside at the wind and rain and trees and grass and leaves and the fence and the cars up on the road, and sometimes they see children a little older than they are who can walk and play outside, bundled in hats and coats and boots. The older ones sometimes wave to the babies. The babies drink from bottles or baby cups and some of them eat solid food. They have their diapers changed. Some of them stand up. Some of them crawl. They all sit up straight the way babies do. They are curious. I'm impressed by the early childhood teachers. They are loving, attentive and knowledgeable about babies. I have a lot to learn from them. All of them sing beautifully while rocking the babies to sleep. The babies appear to feel safe and secure, and then they glow when their families arrive to take them home.