" When she was certain he must be fully immersed in the throng of people, she too stepped forward. On all sides, little bodies bopped into her, thin limbs attempting to carry luggage much too big for them. She loved the children’s sounds, the way the girl’s voices were high and sweet as a harp song, the ruckus of some of the boys like an occasional clash of symbols or roll of a drum. It was a symphony at its finest. "

― Corinne Beenfield