yarrr, ye scurvy boy-king, halt ye whinin'

These many questions swarmed in my head, leaving me restless and uneasy. But it was the look on Lettie's face that night in the growing moonlight that made me wonder the most. The way she'd beamed when Ruthanne asked her to sing us a song. I thought I knew a thing or two about people. Even had my list my universals. But I wondered. Maybe the world wasn't made of universals that could be summed up in neat little packages. Maybe there were just people. People who were tired and hurt and lonely and kind in their own way and their own time.

from Moon over Manifest by Clare Vanderpool