the wild rumpus

...and an ocean tumbled by with a private boat for Martha, and she sailed off through night and day, and in and out of weeks, and almost over a year to where the wild things are.

And when she came to the place where the wild things are, they roared their terrible roars and gnashed their terrible teeth and rolled their terrible eyes and showed their terrible claws, till Martha said "BE STILL!" and tamed them with the magic trick of staring into all their yellow eyes without blinking once, and they were frightened and called her the most wild thing of all...and made her the queen of all wild things.

"And now," cried Martha, "let the wild rumpus start!"

"Now stop!" Martha said, and sent the wild things off to bed without their supper. And Martha the queen of all wild things was lonely and wanted to be where someone loved her best of all.

Then all around from far away across the world she smelled good things to eat, so she gave up being queen of where the wild things are. But the wild things cried, "Oh, please don't go-we'll eat you up-we love you so!"

And Martha said, "No!"

How come this story doesn't say anything about how the wild things felt after that? The Queen of all Wild Things left us today. After two and a half beautiful summer weeks of Aunt Martha picking berries and swinging children around and cutting out a hundred paper crowns and cleaning the kitchen over and over, the wild rumpus has come to a rather melancholy end.

We stood out in the muddy water at Fort Yargo and marshalled kids together, and kissed bruises and swept floors and kept Jess up way past his bedtime talking, and it was the best couple of weeks I've spent in a long time.

So, to Martha, you are beautiful and patient and gentle and brilliant and understanding, and I understand why you had to leave us but still...

Whenever you want to come back to us, the position is always open.