This afternoon, in the beautiful respite from cold and snow, as I walked my dog, I saw, far ahead of us, a couple of neighbor kids, brother and sister, skipping across the street together.  They progressed down Stanton Avenue as far as the horse statues that mark the entrance to the park.  There was a spring in their step and a loose, joyful energy about their bodies, clearly visible even from a distance behind.  They were a picture of release.  For at least the hundredth time, I wondered what life must be like for young families in this time of COVID.  I was once the mother of three young boys, now long since grown, and have often thanked my lucky stars that I and they did not have to figure out what to do with ourselves, locked away for an entire year.  My heart goes out to all of you young families who are meeting the challenge of historic social isolation.  I hope that it will prove to have bound you together in a strength that will ultimately enrich us all when finally, we are all out and about together.  I only wish that I could catapult myself fifty years into the future, to read the emerging literature and see the movies that this era will have spawned.  Meanwhile, bless you all.  Keep on keeping on.  We're in the home stretch.