When Janie attended NYLF in Washington DC earlier this year, she had occasion (responding to a question on the subject of religion), to mention that she was a Quaker.
One of her seminar-mates, a young man named Robert from Connecticut, told her that he was amazed. He thought Quakers were like Okapis, cryptids thought to be lost in the mists of time, mythical or extinct entities.
Jane, who knows her cryptids (Link) assured him otherwise (although I must say that contemporary Quakerism is something I think George Fox might find it difficult to recognize.)
All this being said, sometimes I worry that my strong, talented, but essentially gentle daughter, is made to experience fortune’s outrageous slings and arrows a little too fiercely in what I’m finding increasingly to be an ugly and mediocre time. When you’re up, they’ll love you to death; when you’re down, they’ll steal your last breath, the man said with good reason. So, if you’re thinking of messing with Jane, don’t. I’m conflicted, not as natural a Quaker as she is, and I will stop you in your tracks and fill your footprints with cement.
The Move: Don't Mess Me Up (Link)