Sometimes, reading to my children at night, the perverse thought would come to me that in rehashing for them the same fairy stories, Bible stories, and myths, I was not giving them a gift but rather taking something from them. Night after night i was instructing them in convention. Here are the various forms life can take, I was telling them. And yet i still remembered the time when my older son's mind did not produce known forms or follow familiar patterns, when his urgent strange questions about the world revealed it anew to us. We saw his perspective as a form of brilliance and yet went on educating him in the conventional forms, even while they chafed us.