Standing outside a preschool playground, watching children at play, we may catch a fleeting glimpse of something other than the tears of angels. These young lives are far from the horizons established for us adults by television talk shows and popular magazines. They have no goals or plans, no programs of self-talk, self-awareness, or stress reduction; they are simply living life. They are like the lilies of the field; they are clothed with the splendor of living without any concern for tomorrow. When they fall, their tears are without shame. When someone hurts them, they hurt back without enduring resentment. They know what they want. When they love, they love without restraint, and their anger is devoid of malice. In realizing their smallness in a huge world, and discerning loves inefficiency, fear eclipses their hearts causing them to die as children and in so doing they become adults, seeking out programs of self-talk, self-awareness, and stress reduction, desperately looking for a way to resurrect the mystery of life they had once known. In Songs of Life, a grandfather rediscovers the simple joys and meanings of living by playing with his grandson, and through that experience recognizes what he lost of himself in becoming an adult.