Building Bridges in Early Childhood Special Education Programs

October 26, 2025.Reading time 13 minutes.

By Lindsey McLain, assisted by AI
lindseymclain17@gmail.com
Picture by proud Granddad as he listens to her stories!

Working with children with autism spectrum disorder is not just my career—it is my calling. My passion for special education began long before I entered the classroom as a teacher. In eighth grade at Faubion Middle School, I joined the Partners PE program—a life-changing experience that introduced me to the joy of working alongside students with disabilities. I didn’t know it then, but that program would be the beginning of finding my career.

Every day with my three- to five-year-old students reminds me that education is less about rigid lessons and more about relationships, trust, and patience. My years of experience supporting children of all ages with autism spectrum disorder, both in college and now in the classroom, have shaped the way I see teaching: as a bridge between worlds.

Trust as the First Lesson

Before I can expect children to learn letters, numbers, or colors, I have to show them that I am safe, consistent, and trustworthy. Building that relationship is the first lesson I teach, though I don’t do it with words. I do it with presence, with predictable routines, and with gentle encouragement. Only when a child trusts me can they begin to risk trying something new.

In my classroom, trust starts by connecting with what each child loves. Some of my students enjoy running and climbing on the playground, while others prefer sitting quietly with a favorite toy. Some love Eric Carle’s colorful storybooks, while others are captivated by anything with wheels or that flies. I use their preferences to build bridges—to join their world before asking them to join mine. When they see that I value what brings them joy, trust begins to grow.

Individual Needs, Individual Paths

No two children are alike, and no two learning journeys are the same. Some of my students need visual schedules to feel grounded. Others need sensory breaks to regain balance. Some thrive in structured play but struggle with transitions. My responsibility is to make sure every child is getting what they need. True fairness in special education isn’t sameness—it’s tailoring learning so that each child has a path forward.

I continue to learn how to adapt materials and instruction for my students. Recently, I was given the opportunity to go through an AAC (Augmentative and Alternative Communication) device training. Using what I learned, I now tailor communication to meet each student’s needs. Some of my students can access many words on their devices, while others focus on functional language—simple but powerful words like go, stop, and help. In the same classroom, I have children who can count to 100, read, and write simple words, and others who are still learning how to share preferred items or take turns. Each child’s growth is unique, and each one reminds me that progress comes in many forms.

Patience and the Pace of Progress

In the first month of school, my students were still learning to adjust to me as their teacher. They didn’t respond to my directions right away, and I quickly realized that relationships must come before expectations. In special education, we often say that progress is not linear—and it’s true. Growth happens at the student’s pace, not mine. Watching my students slowly build trust and routine has taught me to pause not just in my teaching, but in my own daily life. The slower I move, the more I notice the beauty in every little step forward.

Adapting Materials, Adapting Expectations

Every day I adapt. A worksheet might become a hands-on sorting activity, a storybook may come alive with picture cards, and a group activity might start one-on-one before a child joins peers. Adapting does not mean lowering expectations—it means clearing a path so the child can succeed. Flexibility is the tool that opens doors.

I’ve also learned that not all students learn best in the same way. Some benefit from tangible, hands-on experiences—holding real objects as they learn to identify them—while others respond better to visual supports like picture cards or digital images. For example, when working on identifying common objects, one child might need to touch and explore the physical item, while another can easily match it on a communication board. Differentiating materials this way allows each child to access learning in the way that fits them best.

Seeing Through Their Eyes

Teaching children with autism spectrum disorder means constantly trying to see the world through their eyes. What feels overwhelming to one child might be soothing to another. What looks like resistance may really be a need for predictability. The more I step into their perspective, the better I understand their needs—and the more compassion grows in me as a teacher.

Over time, I’ve learned that communication isn’t always spoken. Many of my students express their needs through subtle nonverbal cues—a shift in body language, a glance away, covering their ears, or beginning to pace. These moments often tell me more than words ever could. When I notice a child’s shoulders tense, their breathing quicken, or their focus fade, I know it’s time to pause. They may need a sensory break, help with a task, or simply a moment to feel safe again.

I’ve also come to understand that all behavior is communication. Sometimes a child might cry, run away, or throw items—not out of defiance, but out of frustration, fear, or an unmet need. Every action, whether it’s laughter, avoidance, or a meltdown, carries meaning. It’s my job to look beneath the surface and ask why a behavior is happening—what the child is trying to tell me through their actions.

Learning to read these signals has been one of the most powerful parts of my teaching journey. It reminds me that listening goes far beyond hearing words—it’s about observing, understanding, and responding with empathy. When I take the time to notice and respond with care, my students feel seen, supported, and understood.

Partnering with Families

I am also beginning to see the importance of resources for parents. Families often want to understand how to best support their children at home, and I’ve learned that open communication and sharing tools—like visuals, routines, and sensory supports—makes a huge difference. During my first parent-teacher conferences, I was able to share the progress I’d seen: new words, increased independence, and more engagement during group time. Seeing parents’ faces light up with pride reminded me why I love what I do.

Love, Smiles, and Joy

At the heart of my motivation is love—the love I give and the love I receive. It shows up in the smiles when a child recognizes me in the morning, in the laughter that bursts out during play, and in the quiet joy of a breakthrough moment. These children teach me as much about joy as I teach them about learning. Their small wins are also my wins. Their happiness, however fleeting, is a reminder of why I chose this path. Love is not just the motivation for teaching—it is the reward.

Now that I finally have a classroom of my own—two classes, ten students, and more to come—I feel the deep responsibility and joy of shaping a learning environment from the ground up. Every day brings new discoveries, laughter, and lessons. Watching my students love, smile, grow, and enjoy life just like all children do reaffirms that they are not defined by their challenges, but by their potential.

Celebrating the Small Wins

In my classroom, there is no such thing as a “small” win. Every word spoken, every step toward independence, and every positive interaction with a peer is cause for celebration. These victories remind the children—and me—that progress is real and possible. They build confidence and keep us moving forward together.

One of my favorite recent moments came during school picture day. One of my students was very nervous and hid their face when it was time for their photo. Their mother had been so excited to see their first school pictures and was eagerly looking forward to them. We decided to try again about an hour later, after the student had some time to feel calm and comfortable. This time, they walked up with confidence and gave the biggest smile. When their mother saw the photos, her face lit up with joy. That small moment reminded me that success doesn’t always come on the first try—sometimes it blooms quietly after patience, trust, and encouragement.

Conclusion: A Program of Hope

Teaching children with autism spectrum disorder is about more than academics. It is about dignity, relationship, and hope. My classroom is a place where every child can learn and grow at their own pace, supported and understood. It is a place where I adapt, celebrate, and most importantly—love.

McKinney ISD’s special education program is entering a new chapter with recent leadership changes, and I believe this will bring fresh opportunities for growth, collaboration, and advocacy. With continued focus on supporting teachers and families, we can keep building programs that meet every child where they are.

These children may see the world differently, but through their eyes, I have learned to see beauty, courage, and joy in ways I never imagined. Every day, I am reminded that teaching isn’t just about shaping their future—it’s about allowing them to shape mine.

Come to Me as a Child: The Invitation from Christ and Its Meaning Today

October 26, 2025.Reading time 8 minutes.

A collaboration between Lewis McLain & AI

Introduction: The Most Disarming Invitation

Of all the invitations Jesus ever gave, none is more tender or more revealing than His call to “Let the little children come to Me.” In a world that prized power, rank, and age, Jesus placed a child in the midst of grown men and declared that the way into His Kingdom was not through merit, intellect, or strength—but through simplicity of heart. The Gospels record this lesson several times (Matthew 18:1-5; 19:13-15; Mark 10:13-16; Luke 18:15-17), which tells us how central it is to the heart of the Christian life.

The Scene: Greatness Redefined

In Matthew 18, the disciples were debating who would be greatest in heaven. Their conversation revealed an adult obsession with comparison and hierarchy. Jesus interrupted their ambitions by calling over a small child—someone overlooked, unranked, and powerless.

“Unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.” (Matthew 18:3)

In one sentence, Jesus inverted the value system of His listeners. Greatness, He said, begins with humility. To “become like children” is to admit dependence and trust rather than display status. The Kingdom of God is not climbed into; it is received with open hands.

Reflection Questions

What ambitions or comparisons most distract you from a childlike faith?
How do humility and dependence challenge our culture’s idea of success?
In what ways might “becoming smaller” actually enlarge your soul?

The Heart of the Matter: Childlike, Not Childish

Jesus did not praise immaturity, ignorance, or naivety. He praised childlikeness—qualities of heart that adults tend to lose: trust, wonder, forgiveness, curiosity, and the ability to be taught. A child depends without shame, asks without hesitation, and forgives without keeping score. These traits mirror the faith that connects us to God.

When He said, “Anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it” (Mark 10:15), Jesus was describing an approach, not an age. The requirement is not to remain small but to remain soft—humble enough to receive grace instead of earning it.

Reflection Questions

Which childlike quality—trust, wonder, forgiveness, curiosity—do you find hardest to retain?
How can you cultivate teachability before God this week?
What would your worship look like if you came with that childlike heart?

The Blessing: His Hands on the Children

In both Mark 10 and Matthew 19, people brought children to Jesus, and the disciples tried to push them away. Perhaps they thought He had more important work to do. But Jesus became indignant—a rare word for His righteous anger. He insisted, “Do not hinder them.” He gathered the children into His arms, laid His hands on them, and blessed them.

That gesture still defines the heart of Christian ministry. To hinder a child—by neglect, cynicism, or hardness—is to obstruct the very image of faith God desires. Every time the Church welcomes the least, protects the vulnerable, or teaches with gentleness, it reenacts that moment of blessing.

Reflection Questions

Who in your life might be “hindered” from coming to Jesus by neglect or discouragement?
How can your words or presence become an open invitation instead?
What practical steps could your church take to bless children and the childlike?

The Application: What It Means Today

1. Trust Over Control

Modern life prizes control—plans, schedules, data, mastery. Yet the Gospel calls us to trust. A child steps forward because the parent’s voice is enough. To follow Jesus is to release the illusion of control and to rest in His character.

2. Wonder Over Cynicism

Children see beauty where adults see routine. Faith flourishes when we regain our sense of wonder—when sunrise, Scripture, and song awaken gratitude instead of fatigue. Cynicism may sound sophisticated, but it cannot worship.

3. Relationship Over Performance

Children do not earn their place at the table; they belong by birth and love. In the same way, believers are accepted not by performance but by adoption into God’s family. Our worth is not negotiated—it is bestowed.

4. Presence Over Hurry

A child notices the moment; an adult is often elsewhere. Jesus invited children to come to Him—a call to be present. Prayer and worship are not tasks but encounters. To come as a child is to arrive unhurried, eager, and attentive.

Reflection Questions

Where in your life are you trying to control what only God can direct?
When was the last time you paused to experience pure wonder before God?
How can you practice “presence over hurry” in your daily prayer or worship?

The Challenge: Becoming Small in a Big World

It is striking that Jesus did not tell the children to become like the disciples, but the disciples to become like the children. In every generation, the Church is tempted to mirror worldly hierarchies—titles, influence, eloquence, size. But the Kingdom belongs to those who kneel, not to those who climb. To be childlike is not to be weak but to be free from pretense. It is the posture that allows grace to enter.

Reflection Questions

Where might pride or performance still keep you from kneeling?
How does God invite you to rest in grace rather than achievement?
What would your leadership, parenting, or ministry look like if shaped by childlike humility?

**I love you, Ben, and will always be by your side.**

Conclusion: The Open Arms of Christ

When Jesus said, “Let the little children come to Me,” He was not limiting His invitation to a specific age. He was revealing the doorway of heaven. The arms that once cradled children on a Galilean hillside would soon stretch open on a cross to welcome all of God’s children home.

To come as a child is to come with empty hands, honest eyes, and an open heart. In that humility, we find not only the entrance to the Kingdom—but the embrace of the King Himself.

A Prayer of Childlike Faith

Lord Jesus,
Teach me to come to You not with pride but with peace,
not with credentials but with curiosity.
Make my heart soft again—able to wonder, to trust, to forgive.
Strip away the layers of cynicism that I have called wisdom,
and restore to me the joy of simple belief.
As a child finds rest in a father’s arms,
let me find rest in Yours.
Amen.

Fund 999

October 25, 2025.Reading time 15 minutes.

A collaboration between Lewis McLain & AI

Expanded Municipal Conference Edition
(A municipal one-act for finance directors, auditors, city managers, and anyone who fears the phrase “per GASB …”)

Dramatis Personae

Socrates — “Temporary Fiscal Clarity Consultant.”
Clerk — keeper of keys, minutes, and mysteries.
Finance Director — calm, caffeinated, bindered.
Auditor — cheerful, bespectacled, powered by sampling.
Councilmember — earnest, reform-minded, occasionally literal.
Budget Analyst — Excel whisperer, existential worrier.
Grants Coordinator — compliance hobbyist, binder color-coder.
IT Person — speaks API, fears “Final_FINAL_v27.xlsx.”
Bond Counsel (Cameo) — invokes covenants, vanishes.
City Manager — thunder on loafers.
Stranger — walk-on comic angel of clarity.
Chorus — two staffers labeled “Chart of Accounts,” who sing footnotes and disclaimers.

Scene 1 — Records Room, 8:01 a.m.

(A pull-chain bulb. Filing cabinets labeled “Special Revenue (Ancient)” and “Projects We Definitely Finished.” A banker’s box glows faintly.)

Clerk: (whispering) I found it behind the 1998 copier lease and an unsigned MOU.
Socrates: (peering in) Ah! A relic with a number: Fund 999. The last digit thrice—the mystics will be unbearable.
Clerk: We numbered it so we’d remember it. We forgot it because we numbered it.
Socrates: Thus the first law of bureaucracy: name a thing, and it hides behind the label.

(Enter Finance Director with coffee.)

Finance Director: We don’t use Fund 999. It’s legacy. Dormant. Harmless.
Socrates: Dead or sleeping?
Finance Director: With funds there is “active,” “should’ve been closed,” and “awaiting discovery by auditors.”
Chorus: (soft hum) GASB fifty-four… five flavors… evermore…
Socrates: Five flavors? I hope they pair with coffee.
Finance Director: They pair with pain.

(Lights shift.)

Scene 2 — The Conference Room of Unfinished Business

(Whiteboard reads: “CLOSE-OUT PLAN — DRAFT OF THE DRAFT.” A plate of cookies labeled “For Council Only.”)

Budget Analyst: We think it began as a Special Revenue Fund.
Socrates: “Special” in the sense of purpose or in the sense of “we didn’t know where else to put it”?
Budget Analyst: (shrugs) Column G says purpose. Column H says “¯\(ツ)/¯”.
Grants Coordinator: I found a 2004 email: “Use Fund 999 for ‘Economic Vibrancy Initiatives.’”
Socrates: A phrase so broad that even philosophy can’t hug it.

Finance Director: (opens binder) Under GASB 54, fund balance has five flavors: Nonspendable, Restricted, Committed, Assigned, Unassigned.
Socrates: Like Greek virtues, but with footnotes and acronyms. Which flavor is 999?
Finance Director: (grim) It says Assigned.
Socrates: Assigned by whom?
Finance Director: People who no longer work here and possibly never existed.

Councilmember: If it’s assigned, can we un-assign it and buy sidewalks?
Socrates: Can a promise made at midnight guide a parade at noon?

(Enter Auditor, jolly and terrifying.)

Auditor: I sensed ambiguity. I came as soon as it balanced.

(They gather around a laptop that immediately requests updates.)

Scene 3 — Field Audit, with Flashlight

(A worktable of binders, highlighters, and a flashlight for dramatic effect.)

Auditor: Three classic reasons a fund like this persists:

Revenue vanished, meetings continued.
It became a parking lot for “temporary” due-to/due-from balances during the Bronze Age.
Someone feared commingling like they fear cilantro—

(Door SLAMS. Enter City Manager, thunder on loafers.)

City Manager: (booming) WHO SPOKE THE C-WORD?
(Everyone freezes. Coffee trembles.)
City Manager: The C-word is worse than profanity! It shall never enter your mind nor cross your lips. Should you contemplate inter-fund cross-pollination, your tenure shall be concluded by end of day—by end of lunch if I’ve had decaf! We separate by purpose, by law, by covenant, by destiny! Are we clear?
All: Crystal!
City Manager: Carry on. (Exits like a thunderclap. The doorknob impelled the wall and won’t close until maintenance can come.)

Socrates: Behold, a policy sermon in one act.
Auditor: We shall say “cash cross-contamination.”
Grants Coordinator: I prefer “inter-fund salsa.”
Finance Director: Let’s say none of that in the minutes.

Auditor: As I was saying: trace origin, verify restrictions, clear “temporary” balances old enough to vote, and—if unconstrained—close or repurpose per policy.
Socrates: A funeral with paperwork.
Budget Analyst: And an obituary in Column J.

Chorus: (singing softly) Schedule of Expenditures of Federal Awards… SEFA, SEFA, hallelujah…

Scene 4 — The Council Work Session That Lasts Forever

(Slide: “Agenda Item 7: Fund 999 — Close-Out Options.” The clock reads 5 p.m. It will continue to read 5 p.m.)

Councilmember: Why do we have so many funds?
Socrates: Because the human heart loves categories. Also, reports paginate badly.
Finance Director: Funds aren’t piles of cash; they’re accounting entities. The question: does 999 still serve a public purpose with the correct basis of accounting, or is it an honorary title we forgot to retire?
Councilmember: And the risk?
Finance Director: Confusion, misreporting, and the slow death of transparency by a thousand “Other Financing Sources.”
Socrates: When is a Special Revenue Fund truly special?
Finance Director: When a revenue is legally restricted or formally committed. “We like it this way” is not a restriction.
Socrates: Capital Projects Fund?
Finance Director: For major construction tracked over years.
Socrates: Internal Service?
Finance Director: Shared services—fleet, IT, insurance—half science, half therapy.
Socrates: Enterprise?
Finance Director: Water, sewer, airport—where depreciation is theoretical until cash runs out.
Councilmember: So Fund 999 may be none of these.
Socrates: Or all in spirit and none in substance—Schrödinger’s Fund- you know, the quantum mechanics thingy.
Auditor: And remember: no cross-conta—
All: SHH!
Auditor: (solemn) The thing we do not name.

(Suddenly, the door opens. A man in jeans and a checked shirt leans in, microphone in hand.)

Stranger: You might be a redneck if the only thing you know about debits and credits applies to your bar tab!

(He tips his hat and leaves before anyone can speak. A beat of stunned silence.)

Budget Analyst: Was that Jeff Foxworthy?
Councilmember: Sure looked like him.
Finance Director: Who invited him to this workshop?
Clerk: Dunno, but he nailed our internal controls problem.
Socrates: A wandering comic sage—he spoke truth in accruals.
Auditor: And violated no procurement policy.
(They shrug and return to the slide.)

Scene 5 — The Archive Yields a Scroll

(The IT Person hustles in with a USB drive labeled “Do_Not_Delete.”)

IT Person: I found the creation memo in a retired share. Also twelve copies named “Final.”
Budget Analyst: (reading) “Fund 999 established to collect developer contributions for ‘Vibrancy Improvements’: benches, trees, and public art—until expended.”
Grants Coordinator: That smells like Restricted—by agreement, maybe even by location.
Finance Director: If contribution agreements limit geography and purpose, the money can’t fund sidewalks three miles away or festival confetti.
Socrates: The fund’s soul is not empty; merely mislabeled.

Auditor: Proposed remedy:

Inventory balances; tie dollars to source agreements and zones.
Finish intended projects or amend agreements in public.
Anything orphaned goes to the closest lawful purpose via resolution, with a bright-line audit trail.

Councilmember: And if any dollars touched bonds?
(Enter Bond Counsel like a thundercloud.)
Bond Counsel: Then behold private use and spend-down rules. One does not mix—
All: SHH!
Bond Counsel: —one does not cohabit bond proceeds with things best left separate. (Vanishes.)
Socrates: A god descended, spoke in acronyms, and departed.

Scene 6 — The Ritual of Reclassification

(Whiteboard now reads: “Close-Out Steps (No New Mysteries).”)

Finance Director:

Document the origin — revenue source, legal constraints, geographic limits.
Reconcile balances — clear “temporary” due-tos/froms and identify encumbrances older than our interns.
Reclassify fund balance — from “Assigned” to Restricted where supported; from myth to Committed via Council action; true orphans to Unassigned in General Fund—but only if truly free.
Council resolution — honor original intent, specify projects, authorize closure or continuation in a proper fund.
ERP updates — lock Fund 999; migrate remaining activity with a clean audit trail and a change log longer than the Iliad.
Public report — plain-English: “Where it came from, where it’s going, why it’s right.”

Auditor: And when you close it, do not create a brand-new “Miscellaneous Special” for leftovers. That’s like cleaning your desk by buying a bigger drawer.
Budget Analyst: (guilty) Drawer 4 is full.

Socrates: Adopt a Fund Rationalization Policy:

Sunset clauses (“close within 24 months of project completion”).
Criteria for when a special revenue fund is warranted vs. a department in General.
An annual Fund Cemetery Review: who can be merged, closed, or resurrected only with cause.

Finance Director: (scribbling) I’ll title it “The No New Mysteries Act.”
Grants Coordinator: With an appendix: “Words We Don’t Say.”
All: (in unison) The C-word.

Scene 7 — The Public Hearing

(A citizen with a stroller; a teenager in a marching band shirt; a retiree holding a sapling.)

Councilmember: Tonight we confess: sometimes we created complex things for simple purposes, then forgot the purpose. We bind ourselves to clarity.
Citizen: Does this mean the benches and trees are finally coming?
Finance Director: (smiles) In the right places, for the right reasons, with the right dollars.
Socrates: If a city can discover the meaning of “assigned,” it can surely plant a tree.

Chorus: (like a lullaby)
Nonspendable for what cannot be spent,
Restricted by law and covenant;
Committed by council’s earnest vote,
Assigned by those who mind the float;
Unassigned to cushion rain…
and never hide your funds again.

Scene 8 — Epilogue in the Records Room

(The box labeled “Fund 999” now bears a red tag: “CLOSED—SEE RES. 2025-117.”)

Clerk: Will there be others like it?
Socrates: Anything built by people is half cathedral, half maze.
Finance Director: But now we keep a map—and a list of words we do not speak.
Auditor: See you next year. Fewer legends, more sidewalks.
(They nod. The bulb clicks off.)

Closing Hymn (Tempo: Workshop After 5 p.m.)

Verse 1
We opened every ledger, we traced the oldest thread,
Found dollars softly sleeping in the archives of the dead.
We numbered them with reverence, we labeled them with care,
Then closed them with a policy and sunlight everywhere.

Chorus
Oh sing the five fund flavors, in balance true and kind:
Restricted, Committed, Assigned, Unassigned!
And when the auditors arrive, we greet them with a grin—
For legends fade to footnotes when the policies begin.

Verse 2
We honored covenants sacred, we planted trees at last,
We cleared the “temporary” items from the echoes of the past.
If ever funds grow labyrinths on shelves we cannot see,
We’ll ask the simplest question first: “What is the purpose, be?”

Chorus (repeat)

Quick Reference

GASB 54 Fund Balance: Nonspendable / Restricted / Committed / Assigned / Unassigned
Special Revenue Fund: Use only for legally or formally constrained revenues.
Capital Projects Fund: Track major construction across years.
Internal Service Fund: Shared services; mind rate setting and net position.
Enterprise Fund: Business-type; depreciation is real (and so is cash).
Close-Out Steps: Origin → Reconcile → Reclassify → Council Action → ERP Migration → Public Summary.
Policy Fixes: Sunset clauses; annual fund rationalization; bright-line handling of orphans; glossary of “Words We Do Not Say.”

Staging & Use Notes

Run time ≈ 15–18 minutes. Cast 8–10. Props: banker’s box, scary binder, whiteboard, pull-chain bulb, one cookie labeled “For Council Only.”
Handout: Close-Out Checklist + Five Flavors explainer.

Psyche Revived by Cupid’s Kiss

October 24, 2025.Reading time 10 minutes.

A collaboration between Lewis McLain & AI (more from the three visits Linda & I had to the Louvre with high school students from Trinity Christian Academy).

Antonio Canova and the Awakening of the Soul

Introduction

Among the marble treasures of the Louvre Museum stands one of the most moving sculptures of all time — Psyche Revived by Cupid’s Kiss, carved by the Italian master Antonio Canova between 1787 and 1793. It depicts the mythological moment when the god Cupid (Eros) revives his beloved Psyche with a kiss, restoring her from deathlike sleep to life and love.

At once tender, idealized, and technically perfect, this masterpiece captures not only the beauty of myth but also the intellectual spirit of the Neoclassical age. For any student observer, it represents the perfect synthesis of form, feeling, and philosophy — a lesson in how art can make marble breathe.

1. The Artist and His Era

Antonio Canova (1757–1822) was born in Possagno, Italy, into a family of stonemasons. Trained in Venice and working in Rome, he became the undisputed master of the Neoclassical style, the artistic movement that sought to revive the order, harmony, and moral clarity of ancient Greece and Rome.

Canova’s art emerged during the Age of Enlightenment, a time when reason, science, and rediscovered antiquity guided intellectual life. Artists looked to classical sculpture for purity of line and noble simplicity. Against the emotional extravagance of the Baroque, Canova’s figures embodied balance, restraint, and serenity.

His goal, he once said, was to give marble the “appearance of living flesh” — and through meticulous polishing and proportion, he succeeded. His works, such as Perseus with the Head of Medusa and The Three Graces, stand as paragons of refinement and calm emotional depth.

2. The Myth of Cupid and Psyche

The story comes from Apuleius’s The Golden Ass (2nd century A.D.), one of the most enduring love myths of classical antiquity.

Psyche, a mortal woman of exceptional beauty, arouses the jealousy of Venus (Aphrodite), who orders her son Cupid to make Psyche fall in love with a monster.
Instead, Cupid himself falls in love with Psyche, visiting her each night unseen. When Psyche disobeys his order never to look at him, he vanishes.
After many trials set by Venus, Psyche opens a box meant to contain beauty but instead releases a deadly sleep upon herself.
Cupid finds her lifeless body, lifts her in his arms, and awakens her with a kiss.
In the end, the gods grant Psyche immortality so she may be eternally united with Cupid.

The myth is a timeless allegory of the soul’s (psyche) awakening to divine love and eternal life — a theme that resonated deeply with both ancient philosophy and Christian symbolism.

3. Commission and Creation

Canova received the commission around 1787 from Colonel John Campbell, a British nobleman visiting Rome. The sculptor completed the work by 1793, using Carrara marble, prized for its pure white translucence.

He later produced a second version (1796), now in the Hermitage Museum, but the first — the Louvre version — remains the most celebrated. It was acquired by Joachim Murat, Napoleon’s brother-in-law, and entered the Louvre’s collection in 1824.

Canova personally oversaw every stage of its creation, using fine abrasives and oil to achieve an extraordinary surface polish. This allowed light to glide across the marble as if over living skin, enhancing the illusion of breath and movement.

4. Composition and Form

The sculpture captures the precise instant of awakening: Cupid bends over Psyche, supporting her head with one hand while their lips draw near. Psyche’s arms reach upward to encircle him, creating a perfect X-shaped composition — a dynamic cross of limbs and wings that binds the figures together.

Key features to observe:

Cupid’s wings rise upward like an angelic halo, framing the scene and drawing the eye toward the couple’s faces.
Psyche’s body arches in a graceful curve, suggesting both fragility and renewal.
Their hands and faces form the emotional focal point — the intersection of life, love, and divine energy.
The base of the sculpture, rough and unpolished, contrasts with the smooth flesh above, symbolizing the transition from earthly death to heavenly awakening.

In the educational diagram below, the X-shape composition and the diagonal lines of sight show how Canova directs the viewer’s gaze from Cupid’s wings to Psyche’s face and then downward through the drapery — a continuous flow of motion through stillness.

5. Symbolism and Interpretation

Canova’s sculpture is far more than an illustration of a myth — it is a philosophical meditation on love and the soul.

The moment of Psyche’s awakening becomes a symbol of spiritual rebirth. The butterfly, often associated with Psyche in classical art, represents transformation — the soul leaving its cocoon of mortality. Cupid, as divine love, breathes eternal life into that soul.

The composition’s diagonal tension embodies both physical energy and emotional ascent: the human yearning for the divine, the eternal dance between matter and spirit.

In Neoclassical thought, beauty was a moral force — the visible expression of virtue and truth. Thus, Canova’s restrained tenderness contrasts with the passionate turmoil of Baroque art. Love here is not sensual conquest but spiritual restoration.

6. Reception and Legacy

When first exhibited in Rome, Psyche Revived by Cupid’s Kiss was immediately recognized as a masterpiece. Critics called it “the triumph of grace over passion.” Visitors were captivated by its lifelike delicacy and emotional power conveyed without exaggeration.

It became a defining work of Neoclassicism, illustrating how calm form could evoke profound feeling. The sculpture influenced generations of artists — including Bertel Thorvaldsen, Jean-Baptiste Carpeaux, and later Romantic painters who explored the harmony of body and spirit.

Even into the 19th century, it remained a reference point for art academies, where students studied its anatomy, symmetry, and emotion as an ideal of beauty.

7. Observing the Sculpture in the Louvre

The sculpture is displayed in the Denon Wing, Room 403, near Michelangelo’s Dying Slave and Rebellious Slave. The museum’s lighting enhances the subtle contrast between shadow and shine that Canova intended.

For a student observer:

Move around the sculpture; every angle reveals a new emotional dialogue.
Notice how light travels across the marble — the figures almost seem to breathe.
Observe how Cupid’s downward gaze meets Psyche’s upward movement, forming an eternal loop of love and revival.
Pay attention to the texture contrast between the finely polished skin and the rough rock — symbolizing transformation from mortality to divinity.

This active observation turns the experience from passive viewing into an encounter with Canova’s philosophy of life and art.

8. Enduring Meaning for Students

For modern students, Psyche Revived by Cupid’s Kiss offers three timeless lessons:

Technical mastery serves emotional truth. Canova’s polish and proportion allow the emotion to flow through form rather than overwhelm it.
Balance creates beauty. The sculpture’s X-shaped harmony shows how composition guides feeling.
Love awakens the soul. Beyond its mythic story, it reminds us that true beauty unites body and spirit, art and life.

In this sense, Canova’s work is not just about marble or myth — it is about humanity’s eternal desire for renewal, compassion, and transcendence.

Conclusion

In Psyche Revived by Cupid’s Kiss, Antonio Canova transformed stone into spirit. He captured the silent instant where death yields to love, and stillness becomes motion. His art bridges mythology and philosophy, sensuality and serenity, mortal and divine.

For all who stand before it — whether in wonder, study, or reverence — the message remains the same: Love revives, beauty endures, and art can awaken the sleeping soul.

“The beauty of the body is the beauty of the soul made visible.”
— Antonio Canova

Dallas City Hall and the True Cost of Deferred Maintenance

October 23, 2025.Reading time 10 minutes.

🏛️ Dallas City Hall and the True Cost of Deferred Maintenance

A Case Study in Municipal Infrastructure, Veiled Optimism, and Avoidance

**Dallas City Hall: Decades of Neglect?**

Introduction: A Landmark in Decline

When it opened in 1978, Dallas City Hall embodied civic confidence. Designed by I. M. Pei (1917–2019)—the Chinese-American architect behind the Louvre Pyramid, John F. Kennedy Presidential Library, and Bank of China Tower—the building fused modernist ambition with civic purpose: a six-story administrative wedge, a vast public plaza, and a two-level underground parking garage spanning nearly twelve acres in downtown Dallas.

The original cost estimate in the mid-1960s bond plan was $42.200 M; by completion, the design + construction (building, plaza, and garage) exceeded $70.000 M 🔗Dallas City Archives—a 66 % escalation before inflation.

Half a century later, that same structure faces structural and systems decay: water infiltration, concrete fatigue, failing HVAC (heating, ventilation and air conditioning), and ADA (Americans with Disabilities Act) deficiencies. Engineers now warn that repairs could cost between $152.000 M and $345.000 M 🔗Dallas News.

What’s Broken—and How Much

Major System	Typical 2024 Estimate	Notes
Structural repairs – garage	$25.000 M – $145.000 M	two-level; corrosion + leaks
Envelope / roof / plaza waterproofing	$36.000 M – $100.000 M	cracked membrane + drainage failures
Electrical panels (210 units)	$5.300 M	obsolete switchgear
Generators (5 units)	$6.000 M	limited backup capacity
HVAC retrofits	$5.000 M	aging air handlers and controls
Fire suppression systems	$7.500 M	low pressure / coverage issues
Code & ADA upgrades	≥ $10.000 M	elevators, security, IT rooms

Total deferred maintenance: ≈ $152.000 M – $345.000 M 🔗KERA News.
Citywide building-repair budget (FY 2024): ≈ $14.500 M 🔗Dallas News.

The Arithmetic of Neglect

Deferred maintenance is not delayed expense; it is multiplied expense.

From the FY 2024 Annual Comprehensive Financial Report (ACFR) 🔗City of Dallas FY 2024 ACFR:

Gross depreciable assets: $7.328 B
Accumulated depreciation: $3.222 B
Annual depreciation expense: $0.204 B (≈ 2.78 % of gross)
→ Implied service life: ≈ 36 years

But accounting depreciation measures wear and tear at original cost, not replacement cost. Dallas City Hall is still carried at its 1977 cost.

Assuming 3 % annual inflation for 36 years: (1.03)^{36}=2.898 \text{ (multiplier)};\quad (1.03)^{36}-1=1.898\text{ (+189.8 % growth)}.

Adding a working-live premium—the inefficiency of renovating while occupied—raises costs further.
Industry studies from the U.S. General Services Administration, UK Office of Government Commerce, and construction research journals report 20 % – 40 % higher costs for occupied-building projects. Using 25 % here is conservative 🔗GSA Guidance. 2.898×1.25=3.622 (effective replacement multiplier).2.898 × 1.25 = 3.622 \text{ (effective replacement multiplier)}.2.898×1.25=3.622 (effective replacement multiplier).

Thus each $1 in 1977 requires ≈ $3.622 today.

Applying this to $7.328 B: 7.328×3.622=$26.553B(future replacement cost).7.328 × 3.622 = \$26.553 B (\text{future replacement cost}).7.328×3.622=$26.553B(future replacement cost).

Dividing by 36 years: ≈ $737.600 M per year, or ≈ 10 % of gross.
By comparison, Dallas books $204 M and spends only $14.5 M. That shortfall is the source of every headline repair bill.

Why Projects Go Off the Rails

City Hall’s $42.200 M → $70.000 M jump arose from six factors still common today:

Optimism + scope under-definition (no contingency).
Inflation (volatility of 1970s prices).
Scope creep (additional features + art).
Hidden conditions (garage, plaza).
Regulatory drift (code changes).
Working-live premiums (keeping operations open).

Incentives, Lowballing & the Change-Order Machine

Public projects exist within optimism, competition, and uncertainty.

Optimism bias / strategic understatement: research by Bent Flyvbjerg shows systemic under-pricing 🔗Flyvbjerg Study.
Procurement pressure: lowest bid wins → “winner’s curse.”
Client changes: owners add scope mid-stream.
Renovation unknowns: concealed defects force change orders.

Parallels: Boston “Big Dig” (≈ $15 B) 🔗Boston Globe, Denver Airport baggage system collapse, Sydney Opera House ($7 M → $100 M AUD).

Mitigations: use Reference-Class Forecasting (RCF), early builder input via Construction Manager at Risk (CMAR) or Design-Build, and independent estimators.

City Hall as Exhibit A

If Dallas funded renewal proportionally, City Hall’s share would be ≈ $35–$40 M per year.
Instead, the entire building portfolio gets < $15 M.
Hence City Hall’s $152–$345 M backlog—equal to 4–10 years of the whole program.

The Political Blind Spot: Do They Really Want to Know?

Revaluing assets honestly would show many cities functionally bankrupt or near that line. It’s easier to fund prestige projects than repairs.

Reunion Arena (1980): $27.000 M; 18,187 (basketball)/17,001 (hockey).
American Airlines Center (2001): $420.000 M; ≈ 19,200/18,532 (+1,000 ≈ +5 %).
Cost multiple: ≈ 15× for marginal gain 🔗Wikipedia AAC.

Now in 2025, the Dallas Mavericks plan a new basketball-only arena and entertainment district, lease ending 2031, target opening 2031-32 season 🔗Axios Dallas.
Possible site: 182-acre tract in Irving already rezoned for mixed use 🔗WFAA.
Meanwhile the Dallas Stars explore relocation to Plano 🔗Front Office Sports.

The contrast is stark: a city that cannot find $35 M to maintain its seat of government may debate hundreds of millions for a 20-year-old arena’s replacement.
Deferred maintenance has no cheerleaders or naming rights—but it defines fiscal reality.

**American Airlines Center: Now Not Good Enough?**

The Roadway Analogy

A two-lane road built through cornfields is cheap; rebuilding it under 30,000 Average Annual Daily Traffic (AADT) requires detours and night work.
Renovating City Hall while occupied is the same exercise indoors.

Policy Framework for Renewal

Budget to Depreciation. Phase from $204 M to ≈ $738 M.
Facility Condition Assessments (FCA) every 3–5 years.
Account for Working-Live Costs. Include swing space and night work.
Adopt Long-Range Capital Planning. Align bond funding to renewal.
Communicate the Cost of Doing Nothing. “Inaction” is the most expensive option.
Procure Realistically. Apply RCF, independent estimators, and collaborative delivery (CMAR / Design-Build).

The Obligation of Stewardship

Stewardship is the ethical core of public office—the duty to preserve what the public has already paid for. Elected officials are not owners; they are trustees of assets whose value outlives their terms. Buying into stewardship means more than balancing a budget. It means:

Maintaining public assets as if they were irreplaceable, because for taxpayers, they are.
Acknowledging long-term costs upfront, not shifting them to future councils.
Funding depreciation as seriously as new construction, ensuring that every bridge, library, and city hall receives predictable renewal.
Communicating maintenance backlogs transparently, just as deficits are disclosed in financial reports.

The penalty for neglecting stewardship is not theoretical. It arrives as emergency appropriations, service interruptions, higher borrowing costs, and public distrust. Neglect widens inequality, because deferred infrastructure failures fall hardest on citizens least able to relocate or absorb disruption.

When councils delay roof repairs but approve stadium subsidies, they erode not only balance sheets but confidence in government itself. Stewardship is the measure of civic maturity: honoring obligations to predecessors who built and successors who depend.

If one really wanted to be harsh about it, take a panoramic view of each city council group’s photos over the last few decades. At some level, each of those groups may have been celebrated for trimming the tax rate or balancing the budget. They were also accruing a massive liability in the background by deferring maintenance. Now rank them for stewardship. There are no groundbreakings or plaques given for basic maintenance. Perhaps there should be.

Conclusion: From Symbol to Signal

Dallas City Hall is a mirror. Accounting depreciation at 1977 values made decline look cheap—until the true bill arrived. The lesson is mathematical and moral: pay small bills now, or giant ones later. Arenas may shine; maintenance sustains civilization.

Appendix A — Capital Asset and Depreciation Math

Measure	FY 2024 ($ 000)	Calculation	Result
Gross depreciable assets	7,328,154	ACFR Note 8	—
Accumulated depreciation	3,222,182	ACFR Note 8	—
Net book value	4,105,972	7,328,154 − 3,222,182	—
Annual depreciation expense	203,991	ACFR Note 8	—
Depreciation % of gross	—	203,991 ÷ 7,328,154	2.78 %
Implied service life	—	100 ÷ 2.78	≈ 36 yrs
Inflation factor (3 % × 36 yrs)	—	(1.03)³⁶ − 1 = 1.898 (+189.8 %)	—
Future multiplier with disruption	—	(1 + 1.898) × 1.25 = 3.622 ×	—
Future replacement cost	—	7.328 B × 3.622	$26.553 B
Required annual replacement funding	—	26.553 B ÷ 36	$0.738 B (≈ $737.600 M / yr)
Adjusted depreciation rate	—	737.600 M ÷ 7.328 B	≈ 10.07 % / yr

Interpretation: Dallas consumes ≈ 2.8 % of its capital stock each year but reinvests < 2 % of real need. The unfunded 8 % gap is the hidden liability behind every roof leak and garage closure.

Analysis: Crowd Size and Plausibility of the Boston “No Kings” Rally Photograph

October 23, 2025.Reading time 5 minutes.

Illustrative framework by David Leininger 50 years ago; Written by Lewis McLain & AI

About 50 years ago, I was sitting in a budget meeting at Garland. Fiscal Services Administrator David Leininger had just joined the city. The meeting included most of the other Administrators, including the Administrator for Public Works. The issue at hand was a budget request for a few new street sweepers. Then came my lifelong educational moment. David pulled out his new TI hand calculator and started asking questions. How many curb miles do we have? How fast does a street sweeper travel when in action? What is the frequency for sweeping streets annually? How many street sweepers do you have now? In only a minute or two, David concluded the city had more than enough street sweepers. Then he went deeper with his questions to reveal that the city didn’t have a sweeper machine problem. There was a scheduling problem where the existing program pulled several street workers off their regular jobs to spend a few days of the month focused on street sweeping. The budget request was withdrawn. I was changed forever. So, in that spirit, honed sharper for me over the decades, let’s apply it to another topic. If you think I’ve missed the mark, give me your variables or a different methodology. LFM

1. Background

The No Kings protests in October 2025 were nationwide demonstrations against perceived authoritarianism under Donald Trump’s second term. Major rallies occurred in multiple U.S. cities. One widely circulated image showed an enormous crowd gathered on Boston Common, with claims that the turnout exceeded one million people.

2. Conflicting Claims

Social media and some AI chatbots asserted that the photo was old—specifically from a 2017 rally—while outlets such as MSNBC, AP, and BBC Verify confirmed it was genuine footage from the October 18, 2025 event.

Fact-checkers determined that the mislabeling originated from Grok, an AI service that erroneously linked the image to 2017. Photographic metadata, timestamp analysis, and weather conditions verified the 2025 origin.

Conclusion:
✅ The image is authentic to the No Kings protest on October 18, 2025—not reused from 2017. Let’s accept that now, for the purposes of this essay. It is not about the authenticity of the picture date. It is about the crowd size.

3. Reported Crowd Size

Local and national reports varied:

WCVB-TV Boston: “More than 1 million descend on Boston Common for Pride and No Kings rallies.”
Boston 25 News: “Thousands gather at Boston Common.”
The Guardian: Estimated 4–6 million nationwide across all rallies.

Even assuming overlapping events, the 1 million figure for Boston alone invites scrutiny.

4. Physical Capacity of Boston Common

Total area: ≈ 50 acres × 43,560 sq ft = 2,178,000 sq ft

Density Level	Sq ft / Person	Capacity Estimate
Extremely Packed	3	726,000
Very Tight Crowd	4	544,500
Standard Dense Rally	6	363,000

Thus, Boston Common cannot physically hold 1 million people. A realistic upper bound is 400 k–500 k.

5. Comparison: Times Square on New Year’s Eve

Times Square is a known benchmark for high-density gatherings.

Area: ≈ 500,000 sq ft (≈ 11–12 acres)
Managed Crowd: 60,000–100,000 people
Density: ≈ 6.25 sq ft per person

If Boston Common (2.18 M sq ft) were filled at that density:
2,178,000 ÷ 3 = 726,000 people (max)
2,178,000 ÷ 4 = 544,500 people (mid)
2,178,000 ÷ 6 = 363,000 people (low)

This matches the realistic physical estimate above.

6. Population Context

City of Boston: ≈ 675,647 people
Greater Boston Metro: ≈ 4,920,000 people

If the rally held 1 million participants: 1,000,000 ÷ 4,920,000= 0.20→20.331,000,000 ÷ 4,920,000 = 0.20 → 20.33% 1,000,000 ÷ 4,920,000 = 0.20→20.33%

If it held 400,000 participants: 400,000÷4,920,000=0.081→8.13400,000 ÷ 4,920,000 = 0.081 → 8.13 % 400,000 ÷ 4,920,000=0.081→8.13

Thus, a one-million crowd would equal 20.33 % of the metro population—implausible for a single-day demonstration—whereas 400,000 equals 8.13 %, a large but believable turnout.

7. Synthesis

Factor	Observation
Photo Authenticity	Genuine 2025 event
Available Space	≈ 2.18 M sq ft
Physical Capacity	350–500 k max
Per Capita Share	8.13 or 20.33 % of metro population
Density Check	Matches Times Square (~6 sq ft/person)

Conclusion: The “million-person” claim likely overstates attendance by a factor of two to three. The physically plausible range is 300 k–500 k.

8. Conclusion

The Boston Common photograph from the No Kings rally is authentic but misrepresented in scale. Spatial analysis, crowd-density benchmarks, and demographic data confirm that a realistic turnout was hundreds of thousands, not a full million.

This illustrates how imagery can magnify perception and how quantitative spatial reasoning helps anchor truth amid viral claims.

Venus de Milo: Beauty, Mystery, and the Ages of Greek Art

October 22, 2025.Reading time 15 minutes.

A collaboration between Lewis McLain & AI

Introduction

Linda and I were fortunate to co-lead taking students and adults to see the Louvre three times. In the next few days, we will discuss some of the art we found to be the most interesting. This particular essay will include two explanations, which you can see in the appendices.

Among the thousands of artworks in the Louvre Museum, few command such quiet reverence as the Venus de Milo. Standing alone in the softly lit gallery of ancient sculpture, her marble form seems to radiate both serenity and mystery. Though her arms are missing, her beauty and balance have captivated the world for over two millennia. This essay explores the history, discovery, artistic features, and enduring symbolism of this masterpiece, revealing why the Venus de Milo remains one of the most beloved and enigmatic sculptures in human history.

Historical Background

The Venus de Milo was sculpted around 130–100 BC, during the Hellenistic period of ancient Greece, when artists emphasized natural movement and human emotion.¹ She is attributed to Alexandros of Antioch, though for many years it was thought to be the work of Praxiteles, a celebrated Classical sculptor of an earlier age.

The statue was discovered in 1820 on the Greek island of Milos (also called Melos) by a farmer named Yorgos Kentrotas, who unearthed several marble fragments while digging near ancient ruins.² French naval officer Olivier Voutier recognized the sculpture’s significance and facilitated its acquisition by France. It was presented to King Louis XVIII, who donated it to the Louvre Museum in 1821, where it has remained ever since.

The name Venus de Milo literally means “Venus of Milos.” The Romans identified her as Venus, goddess of love and beauty, corresponding to the Greek Aphrodite.³ Some early scholars proposed she might instead represent Amphitrite, goddess of the sea, who was worshiped locally on Milos. However, stylistic and iconographic evidence strongly supports the identification as Aphrodite.

Artistic Features and Style

Carved from Parian marble, the Venus de Milo stands at an impressive 6 feet 8 inches (203 cm). The sculpture embodies both Classical idealism and Hellenistic naturalism, harmonizing stillness and motion. Her pose — the famed contrapposto — places her weight gracefully on one leg, creating a natural twist through her torso and hips that evokes lifelike balance and rhythm.⁴

The drapery clings loosely to her lower body, contrasting smooth skin with textured fabric folds. This interplay of surface and shadow displays the artist’s technical mastery. Her facial features — calm, symmetrical, and detached — reflect the Classical ideal of serene beauty, yet her slightly turned head and poised movement reveal the Hellenistic interest in individuality and emotional realism.

Though the statue’s arms are missing, her composition feels whole. The loss invites imagination: was she holding the apple of Paris,⁵ symbolizing her victory in the divine beauty contest? Or perhaps a mirror to admire her reflection, or a shield to inscribe her name? The mystery has made her even more powerful. Viewers are compelled to finish the sculpture in their own minds.

Symbolism and Meaning

The Venus de Milo represents more than physical beauty; she embodies timeless ideals of love, grace, and human aspiration. As a figure of Aphrodite, she symbolizes both the divine and the mortal aspects of beauty — perfect form tempered by vulnerability. Her missing arms and incomplete state transform her into a metaphor for survival and endurance.

Art historians note that while earlier Classical art sought perfection and restraint, Hellenistic works like the Venus de Milo embraced emotion and imperfection. She stands between eras: the discipline of the Classical and the dynamism of the Hellenistic. In that balance lies her universal appeal — an image of eternal poise amid time’s erosion.

Influence and Legacy

Since arriving in France, the Venus de Milo has become a symbol of French national pride and artistic idealism. When the Venus de’ Medici was returned to Italy after Napoleon’s defeat, France longed for a new emblem of classical beauty. The Venus de Milo, with her calm dignity, filled that void.⁶

Throughout the 19th and 20th centuries, she appeared in literature, theater, advertising, and art criticism as the embodiment of the “perfect woman.” She inspired poets like Rilke and sculptors like Rodin. In modern times, surrealists such as Salvador Dalí reimagined her form in dreamlike variations, turning her missing arms into symbols of lost wholeness and modern fragmentation. Even today, she remains a reference point for discussions of ideal beauty versus lived humanity.

Personal Reflection

Standing before the Venus de Milo in the Louvre, a student cannot help but feel awe. The soft light that falls upon her marble shoulders seems almost divine. Her stillness invites silence, contemplation, and humility. Despite her brokenness, she radiates strength; though she is ancient, she feels eternal.

To behold her is to realize that art endures not because it is complete, but because it continues to speak to every generation. The Venus de Milo reminds us that beauty can survive time’s losses — that what remains can sometimes be even more powerful than what was lost.

Conclusion

The Venus de Milo endures as one of the world’s greatest artistic achievements. Discovered by chance, embraced by France, and revered by millions, she represents not only the goddess of love but the resilience of beauty itself. Her missing arms no longer mark absence, but meaning — an open invitation to imagine, to admire, and to understand that true beauty is not perfection, but persistence. In her silence, she teaches a universal truth: what is incomplete can still be eternal.

Footnotes

See Appendix A: “The Ages of Greek Art.”
Louvre Museum Archives, “Acquisition of the Venus de Milo,” 1821 Collection Records.
Ovid, Metamorphoses, Book X; Homeric Hymns to Aphrodite.
Ridgway, Brunilde. Hellenistic Sculpture I: The Styles of ca. 331–200 B.C. University of Wisconsin Press, 1990.
The “apple of Paris” refers to the mythic contest between Hera, Athena, and Aphrodite, in which Paris judged Aphrodite the fairest.
Louvre Museum Guide, “The Venus de Milo: Room 346 — Greek, Etruscan, and Roman Antiquities Wing,” 2023 edition.

Appendix A: The Ages of Greek Art

1. The Geometric Period (c. 900–700 BC)

Traits: Abstract patterns, simple silhouettes, geometric motifs, narrative vases.
Example: Dipylon Amphora (Athens).
Meaning: Order and repetition reflected the emerging Greek sense of harmony after the Dark Ages.

2. The Orientalizing Period (c. 700–600 BC)

Traits: Near Eastern influence; floral designs and mythic creatures.
Example: Mantiklos Apollo.
Meaning: Greece absorbed new motifs through trade, expanding its artistic vocabulary.

3. The Archaic Period (c. 600–480 BC)

Traits: Stiff postures, the “Archaic smile,” emerging realism.
Examples: Kroisos Kouros, Peplos Kore.
Meaning: The birth of realism and human expression in sculpture.

4. The Classical Period (c. 480–323 BC)

Traits: Ideal proportion, balance, and grace. Introduction of contrapposto.
Examples: Doryphoros (Polykleitos); Discobolus (Myron).
Meaning: Harmony and reason became the highest artistic virtues.

5. The Late Classical Period (c. 400–323 BC)

Traits: Greater emotion, softer forms, and intimacy.
Examples: Aphrodite of Knidos (Praxiteles); Apoxyomenos (Lysippos).
Meaning: The divine became humanized; beauty was approachable.

6. The Hellenistic Period (c. 323–31 BC)

Traits: Drama, motion, and psychological depth.
Examples: Laocoön and His Sons; Winged Victory of Samothrace; Venus de Milo.
Meaning: Emotion and individuality replaced the Calm of Classical art.

7. The Greco-Roman Period (c. 31 BC–AD 300)

Traits: Roman adaptations of Greek masterpieces.
Examples: Augustus of Prima Porta; marble copies of Greek bronzes.
Meaning: Greek art lived on through Roman patronage and influence.

8. The Legacy of Greek Art

Greek art evolved from geometric abstraction to human emotion, laying the foundation for Western aesthetics. The Venus de Milo embodies this continuum — the balance of ideal and real, of stone and spirit.

Appendix B: The History of the Louvre Museum

Panoramic aerial view of Le Louvre Museum along the Seine River in Paris downtown, France.

Origins: A Fortress on the Seine (12th–14th Centuries)

The name “Louvre” has uncertain origins. It may derive from the Latin lupara (“wolf’s den”) or from Old French leouar (“castle” or “watchtower”). Either way, its roots reflect its first purpose — defense.
Built by King Philip II Augustus around 1190 AD, the Louvre began as a fortress protecting Paris from Viking attacks. Its moat and towers stood on what is now the Right Bank of the Seine. Remnants of this castle can still be seen beneath the modern museum.
By the 14th century, Charles V converted it into a royal residence, introducing gardens and ornamentation that hinted at its future grandeur.

Renaissance Rebirth (16th Century)

Under Francis I, the Louvre became a palace of art and learning. He commissioned architect Pierre Lescot to replace the old fortress with a Renaissance palace and brought Leonardo da Vinci and his Mona Lisa to France.
Successors Henry II and Catherine de’ Medici added the Tuileries Gardens, linking palace and landscape.

A Palace of Kings (17th Century)

Henry IV began the Grande Galerie, while Louis XIII and Louis XIV expanded the complex with Baroque facades and the East Colonnade. The Louvre became home to royal academies of art. When Louis XIV moved his court to Versailles in 1682, the Louvre was left to artists and scholars — a quiet incubator of the arts.

The Birth of a Museum (18th Century)

The Enlightenment transformed the palace into a public museum. In 1793, the Muséum Central des Arts opened its doors, displaying art seized from royal and church collections. It became the first great public museum of the modern world.

Napoleon and the Imperial Louvre (1799–1815)

Under Napoleon Bonaparte, renamed the Musée Napoléon, the collection swelled with European treasures. Many were returned after his defeat, but his ambition redefined the museum as a symbol of French cultural power.

19th-Century Expansion

From Louis XVIII to Napoleon III, the Louvre was rebuilt and enlarged. Architect Hector Lefuel completed the vast quadrangle, creating a complex spanning roughly 25–35 acres of galleries, courtyards, and gardens — a city within a city.

Modernization and the Pyramid (20th–21st Centuries)

In 1989, President François Mitterrand unveiled the Louvre Pyramid, designed by I. M. Pei, a glass and steel entrance rising from the Cour Napoléon. It symbolized transparency and modernity within a historic setting. Beneath it lies a vast visitor concourse linking the museum’s wings.
The museum has since expanded internationally with Louvre-Lens (2012) and Louvre Abu Dhabi (2017).

The Louvre Today

Now covering nearly 25 acres of exhibition and administrative space, the Louvre houses over 380,000 works of art across eight departments — from Ancient Antiquities to Islamic Art, Sculpture, and Painting. With more than eight million visitors annually, it remains the largest and most visited museum in the world.

From fortress to palace to public museum, the Louvre stands as a living symbol of France’s artistic and intellectual legacy — a place where beauty once reserved for kings is now shared with all humanity.

[Insert Image: Aerial View of the Louvre Complex, Paris]
[Insert Image: The Louvre Pyramid Entrance by I. M. Pei]

Would you like me to produce a PDF or Word version with the images embedded in the Appendix B section, ready for classroom

The Hands That Speak: The Ministry of Those Who Serve the Deaf

October 21, 2025.Reading time 6 minutes.

Based on a letter from Lewis McLain to Pastor Sam One Year Ago Today.

Across sanctuaries, classrooms, and living rooms, there are remarkable people whose work often goes unnoticed yet speaks as loud as any sermon. They are the ones who serve the deaf — interpreters, teachers, and companions who translate not only words but compassion, joy, and the very movement of the Holy Spirit into a living language of hands and heart.

These servants of God live in a world where communication is not limited to sound but expanded by sight, rhythm, and spirit. Their hands become instruments of connection, conducting a symphony of faith that transcends the barriers of silence. In every gesture and facial expression, they proclaim that God’s voice cannot be confined to a single sense. They embody the truth that faith comes not only by hearing, but by believing — and by seeing love made visible.

Those who minister to the deaf practice a form of worship that requires complete presence. To interpret a sermon, a hymn, or a prayer is to listen deeply and respond with the whole body. It is worship in motion. Each word must be felt, understood, and then released through graceful precision. That requires more than technical skill — it takes empathy, reverence, and a heart completely surrendered to the Spirit.

Many of us in church may not realize that while we experience the service through sound, others around us are experiencing the same Spirit through light, touch, and motion. The same gospel is preached in two languages — voice and hand — yet both point to the same God who speaks to every heart.

A Living Example: My Church in McKinney

I have seen this truth with my own eyes. We often sit behind the deaf seating section. The Holy Spirit is all over, in, around, and through our church in McKinney. You can’t listen to the musicians play and the choir and worship leaders sing without being moved by the Holy Spirit. You can’t listen to Pastor Sam preach, or to any of our ministry staff speak, without feeling that the words of the Holy Spirit are flowing through them. The genuineness is visible.

There is no doubt in my heart — He’s real. He is a Spirit made tangible through our gifted leaders. Almost touchable, and certainly able to be breathed in.

But if there ever were a doubt, that doubt would disappear the moment you looked over at the Living Spirit working through the special people like Jenna Glory, signing for the deaf. They glow with a light not often seen in this world. They move with a rhythm that surpasses even the songs and words. It is God alive — vibrant, warm, and powerful.

A Conversation with Luella

Just yesterday, I sat next to a wonderful person named Luella Funderburg at an afternoon church gathering while we watched the Cowboys play. I asked her a few questions, and before long, I learned something extraordinary. She and her husband Ken drive in from Sherman, about thirty miles away. Their former church didn’t have a deaf ministry — but ours does.

Louella told me she teaches a Sunday school class for deaf members of our congregation, ranging from teenagers to senior adults. She even earned a college degree in ministering to the deaf. Truly amazing!

As she shared her story, I couldn’t help but see how her quiet faithfulness mirrors the Spirit I see every Sunday on the stage — hands alive with meaning, faces radiant with joy. Through her, and through all who serve like her, the Spirit continues to speak. The experience is a blessing. I was enriched by our conversation.

A Prayer of Gratitude

Lord, bless Your servants — Sam, Justin, Hollye, the choir, the musicians, and especially those wonderful signers who bring Your Word to life in ways that transcend hearing.

Thank You for people like Louella, who devote their lives to ensuring that every person, regardless of hearing, can feel Your presence fully.

Their ministry reminds me that worship is not limited to sound waves — it’s about Spirit waves. The Holy Spirit doesn’t just fill the air; He fills the heart.

Poem: “The Hands That Praise”

They do not shout, yet mountains move,
Their silence hums a holy groove.
Each motion breathes what words can’t say,
The gospel seen in hands that pray.

They catch the rhythm of unseen choirs,
Their fingers blaze like tongues of fire.
Each sign a psalm, each glance a hymn,
Each movement light, not shadow, dim.

For where we hear, they see the song,
And teach us where our hearts belong.
Through them, the Spirit softly sings,
With holy breath upon their wings.

O ministers whose hands reveal
The love no voice could e’er conceal,
May God renew your strength each day—
The world is blessed by what you say.

Genuine Goodness: The Quiet Strength of a Christian Life

October 20, 2025.Reading time 9 minutes.

A collaboration between Lewis McLain & AI

“Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works and glorify your Father in heaven.” — Matthew 5:16

There are people whose very presence calms a room. They do not demand attention, yet they seem to fill every space they enter with warmth. Their strength is not loud; their influence is not forced. They lead not through speeches or titles, but through the steady rhythm of goodness that flows from a heart aligned with God.

One such man is Harvey Oaxaca — a teacher, coach, administrator, mentor, and friend whose life continues to remind us that genuine goodness still has a face.

Roots of Character

Long before Harvey led Sunday school at First Baptist Church of McKinney, he was a young man in cleats, running plays on the fields of McMurry University in Abilene, Texas. There he earned his degree in education and became a record-setting running back and team captain.

After graduation, Harvey poured that same discipline into a lifetime of service in education. He spent more than four decades as a teacher, coach, and administrator, including twenty-three years in the McKinney Independent School District. He taught in classrooms, guided student-athletes, and eventually helped lead schools with the same calm faith and fairness that have always defined him.

Harvey wasn’t just fast — he was faithful. Teammates recall how he helped others up before celebrating his own touchdown. By graduation he had earned a place among McMurry’s top rushers and, years later, induction into the McMurry Athletic Hall of Honor.

But his greatest victories weren’t measured in yards gained — they were measured in character formed. The discipline of the athlete became the discipline of the servant; the humility of the player who lifted others became the humility of the man who now lifts spirits.

“Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one receives the prize? Run in such a way as to get the prize.” — 1 Corinthians 9:24

Harvey’s race never ended at the goal line — it became a lifelong run toward goodness, guided by faith.

Faith That Speaks Softly

At First Baptist McKinney, Harvey leads his Sunday school class with that same steady resolve. He doesn’t dominate the room; he shepherds it. His teaching and demeanor are more conversation than lecture — he listens, nods, and draws wisdom even from the quietest voice in the circle.

“Who is wise and understanding among you? Let them show it by their good life, by deeds done in the humility that comes from wisdom.” — James 3:13

There is no pretense in Harvey’s faith. It’s as real as the man himself — genuine, unguarded, and shaped by decades of walking with the Lord.

Goodness in Action

When Harvey extends his hand, it’s never just a handshake — it’s a blessing. I’ll never forget watching him greet my three grandchildren as each graduated from high school over the recent years. One by one, he congratulated them with a personal acknowledgment, offering encouragement as if they were his own.

That’s Harvey: goodness not as ceremony but as instinct — quiet, consistent, sincere.

His close friend and co-leader of the class, Dr. Bobby Waite, put it best:

“Harvey’s only fault is he can’t say no to a request or a need. It breaks his heart if he’s double-booked. One way or another, he makes things happen to be there to serve.”

That truth showed itself again recently when Harvey returned to class after a hospital stay for a hip issue. As he stood before his friends, tears filled his eyes. Overcome with gratitude for every prayer and note of concern, he said he could not imagine a world without his church and his class. In that moment — unguarded, grateful, and full of grace — his true goodness was once again on display for all to see. One does not have to guess where his heart is.

Loved by All

To know Harvey is to be drawn to him. His life has touched countless others — students, church members, colleagues, and neighbors.

As one friend said, “You can’t be around Harvey and not believe in goodness again.”

In a world that rewards charisma, Harvey’s quiet strength stands apart. He reminds us that greatness is not about being seen — it’s about being genuine.

The Spirit of Goodness

“But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.” — Galatians 5:22-23

Harvey lives those words as naturally as breathing — steady as his steps once were on the football field, steady as his walk now is with God.

His life testifies that Christian goodness is not dramatic or loud; it’s faithful, consistent, and full of quiet joy.

A Legacy of Grace

When people speak of Harvey, they don’t recall titles or positions; they recall presence — his smile, his kindness, his reliability. He’s the kind of man whose example lingers long after he’s left the room.

“Well done, good and faithful servant… Enter into the joy of your master.” — Matthew 25:21

That’s the prize Harvey has always been running toward — not fame, not applause, but faithfulness.

What More Can We Say About True Goodness

True goodness is one of the simplest virtues to describe and the hardest to live. It doesn’t draw attention to itself, and that’s what makes it powerful. In a culture that confuses being nice with being good, Harvey reminds us that goodness is not mere politeness — it is holiness expressed in kindness. One looks at Harvey’s face and sees Christ looking back.

Goodness is love with feet on the ground.
It’s compassion that costs something.
It’s humility that refuses to quit.

The truly good person doesn’t act good to be admired; he acts good because his heart has been changed. Goodness is what happens when a man allows God’s Spirit to shape his motives, reactions, and tone. It’s not performance — it’s transformation.

“Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life.” — Psalm 23:6

Goodness follows those who walk with God — it’s the fragrance left behind by faith.

A Benediction of Goodness

Goodness walks softly, without sound,
Its footsteps holy, sure, and bound
To hearts that serve and hands that mend,
To lives that love until the end.

It does not shout, it does not shine,
It whispers of a grace divine.
It bends to lift, it waits, it prays,
It lives the truth it dares to praise.

No crowd applauds, no trumpet rings,
Yet Heaven knows such quiet things.
The smile that steadies, the prayer unheard,
The faithful deed, the gentle word.

And when life’s race is nearly run,
And shadows fade before the Son,
The voice of God will softly say —
“Well done, good heart, you showed the way.”

In Harvey Oaxaca, we glimpse what true goodness looks like — not distant, not impossible, but alive, humble, and quietly shining in McKinney, Texas, every Sunday morning.

Cathedrals: Architecture of Faith and Light

October 19, 2025.Reading time 11 minutes.

A collaboration between Lewis McLain & AI

(Many of these we have visited as Linda & I assisted or led ten high school trips to Europe and two adult groups.)

I. The Cathedral as Theology in Stone

Throughout history, the cathedral has stood as more than a house of worship—it is a visible theology, a sermon in stone and glass, and the embodied aspiration of humankind toward heaven.
From the medieval masons of Chartres and Canterbury to the Renaissance masters of Florence and Rome, each cathedral was constructed not merely to enclose space but to draw the soul upward, guiding the eye from earth to eternity.

To step into a cathedral is to enter a world where faith becomes architecture—where mathematics, proportion, and light serve not only the intellect but the spirit.

II. The Blueprint of Heaven: Structure and Meaning

The Cruciform Plan

The cathedral’s plan, shaped like the Latin Cross, mirrors Christ’s own body.

Nave – “navis,” the ship of salvation, carries the faithful through the storms of life.
Transept – the arms of the cross, symbolizing Christ’s embrace of the world.
Choir and Apse – the head of the cross, where heaven meets earth at the altar.

Even the orientation was deliberate—churches faced east, toward the rising sun, the direction of the Resurrection. The faithful entered from the west, walking from darkness into light.

Verticality and Light

The pointed arch and ribbed vault were not inventions of vanity but revelations of grace. They allowed walls to dissolve into windows of divine light, flooding the interior with a spectrum of color from stained glass that told Scripture’s stories to those who could not read.

Abbot Suger of Saint-Denis called it lux nova—“new light”—through which, he wrote, “the dull mind rises to truth through material things.”

III. The Symbolic Language of the Cathedral

Cathedral design followed a theology of number, proportion, and form:

Three = the Trinity.
Four = the Gospels and the corners of the earth.
Seven = perfection and the gifts of the Spirit.
Twelve = the Apostles, the foundation of faith.
Circle and square = heaven and earth, united in sacred geometry.

Every window, vault, and tower carried meaning.

The rose window symbolized divine perfection and Mary as the “Mystical Rose.”
The spire pointed heavenward like a prayer.
The crypt below the altar symbolized the foundation of faith and the tombs of saints.
The labyrinth embedded in some floors symbolized the pilgrimage of life toward God.

Even the play of light and shadow served a theological role: the light revealed divine order, and the shadow reminded of mystery.

IV. The Cathedral as Living Drama

A cathedral was a stage for faith—its rituals, music, and movement forming a liturgical choreography.

The procession down the nave echoed humanity’s journey toward God.
Incense sanctified the air, turning breath itself into prayer.
Chant rose through stone vaults, transforming mathematics into music.
Candles and stained glass painted Scripture across stone, illuminating both mind and heart.

Inside, the boundary between heaven and earth blurred: the faithful participated in a cosmic drama, an ordered beauty that reflected divine creation.

V. The Master Builders: Artists of Eternity

These cathedrals did not bear a single author’s name; they were collaborations of generations. Yet a few names shine through history, bridging the Gothic and Renaissance ages.

Abbot Suger (Saint-Denis, 12th century): envisioned light as the material of heaven.
Robert de Luzarches (Amiens): achieved perfect proportion and balance.
Filippo Brunelleschi (Florence): crowned the Duomo with the largest dome since Rome, merging faith and engineering.
Michelangelo (St. Peter’s): sculpted a dome that became the symbol of Christian civilization.
Sir Christopher Wren (St. Paul’s, London): united reason and reverence, geometry and grandeur.

Each architect turned theology into geometry, translating mystery into measure.

VI. The Geography of Faith

Chartres Cathedral, France – “The Light of Faith”

A symphony of stained glass and soaring stone, Chartres glows with blue light that seems born of heaven itself. Pilgrims entered not merely to pray, but to see faith.

Amiens Cathedral – “The Harmony of Heaven”

Its vertical precision and mathematical perfection made it a model for High Gothic architecture. The façade is a cathedral in miniature—Scripture carved in stone.

Canterbury Cathedral – “The English Light of Faith”

A beacon of Christian unity and martyrdom, where Thomas Becket’s shrine drew pilgrims across medieval Europe.

Florence’s Santa Maria del Fiore – “The Dome of Florence”

Brunelleschi’s miracle of engineering became the visible heart of the Renaissance—faith and reason wedded under one dome.

Cologne Cathedral – “The Towers of the Rhine”

Rising like twin prayers above the river, its Gothic spires were among the tallest structures of the medieval world—an anthem of perseverance.

Milan Cathedral – “The Marble of Heaven”

A white forest of spires and statues, its façade glows with celestial light—a Gothic hymn in marble, completed across centuries.

St. Paul’s Cathedral, London – “The Dome of Reason and Faith”

Wren’s masterpiece rose from the ashes of the Great Fire, symbolizing rebirth and the Enlightenment’s reconciliation of science and spirit.

St. Peter’s Basilica, Rome – “The Dome of Heaven”

Michelangelo’s dome gathers light and shadow in one celestial curve—the architectural heart of Christendom.

Seville Cathedral – “The Crown of Andalusia”

Built on the foundations of a mosque, it embodies Spain’s golden age of faith and exploration, its Giralda tower uniting Moorish grace and Christian triumph.

St. Patrick’s Cathedral, New York – “The Gothic Heart of America”

Rising amid skyscrapers, it brought Old World faith to the New—its spires a reminder that even in commerce and ambition, the soul looks upward.

Reims Cathedral – “The Coronation of Kings”

Here France anointed her monarchs, blending political authority and divine sanction under a canopy of sacred art.

Westminster Abbey – “The Voices of the Crown”

Coronations, weddings, and burials fill its stones with national memory. Poets, saints, and sovereigns share its eternal silence.

Mont-Saint-Michel Abbey – “The Island of Heaven and Earth”

A miracle of nature and faith, rising from tidal sands like a vision of the New Jerusalem. Pilgrims still walk the ancient causeway.

Santiago de Compostela – “The Pilgrim’s End”

The journey’s end for millions—the place where weary travelers fall to their knees and find rest in the shadow of the Apostle’s tomb.

Chartres Cathedral Interior – “The Windows of Heaven”

Sunlight through sapphire glass transforms the nave into a sea of color, embodying the union of matter and spirit—light made prayer.

The Vatican at Dawn – “The Seat of Faith and Reason”

From above, St. Peter’s Square opens its arms to the world—Bernini’s architecture of embrace, illuminated by a new day’s first light.

Florence by Night – “The Light Within”

Under moon and lamplight, the Duomo’s quiet majesty reminds that faith does not sleep. Beneath the stars, devotion becomes peace.

VII. The Cathedral and the Soul

Cathedrals were never just buildings—they were cosmoses of faith, reflections of a universe ordered by beauty, truth, and light.
They taught, healed, inspired, and endured.

In every stone lies an act of faith. In every window, the story of salvation.
To walk their aisles is to travel through time and eternity—the journey of creation itself rendered in glass, marble, and prayer.

They stand as the architecture of hope, proclaiming through centuries of war and change that heaven is nearer than we think.

VIII. Epilogue: The Eternal Architecture

When the builders of Chartres, Florence, and Rome set their compasses, they sought not fame but harmony with divine order.
Their work endures because it was built not only of stone—but of faith shaped into form.

The cathedral teaches us that beauty is not ornament; it is revelation.
And when light passes through the rose window, scattering colors across the floor, it speaks wordlessly what all believers feel:

“The heavens declare the glory of God;
and the firmament shows His handiwork.” — Psalm 19:1

Cathedrals are humanity’s greatest confession—
that even amid our dust, we dream of light.