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Tell Me More

“Tell me what you’re hearing.

I’ll tell you what I see. 

Who is it you’re missing? 

What is it you need? 

I’ve got a thousand questions for the millions on the street. 

Somebody out there tell me ….. tell me more.”

     ~  SonMieux, vocal artists / band.  

The child pushes the chair up to the cupboards and climbs aboard, stretching on tiptoes.  “What in heaven’s name are you doing? Get down from there!”   “I need the foil so I can make wonder-woman’s bracelets.”   “That’s ridiculous. That’s not what the foil is for.”  


“What a fun idea!  You know, I’ve got some gold foil out in the workshop.

You could use it to make the tiara.  Tell me more!”

The tween stomps in after school, heading straight back to the bedroom.  “How was your day at school?”    “It sucked! (voice near tears).   “Don’t use that kind of language around me! What’s wrong?”    “The kids made fun of my science project. They said it was stupid. Even my teacher laughed.”    “Well!  I’m going to phone that teacher right now.  And report those kids to the principal.”


“You worked hard on that project. Dang, that must have hurt.  

Come on over here, and Tell me more.”

The adolescent blurted out “I got invited to the birthday party! It’s going to be at the roller rink.”    “It’s not on a school night, is it?”    “No. it’s on Friday.  I’ve gotta figure out what I’m going to wear.”    “What’s the big deal. You’ve got plenty of clothes in your closet.  Are there going to be chaperones?”


“Oh, good for you!  We’ll figure out something special.  

Tell me more.”        

The twenty-something clocked in for second shift ten minutes late, for the third day in a row.    “Hey! You’re late….again.”    “I’m sorry, my wife’s still sick. I had to take her to the walk-in clinic earlier.”     “You need to keep home-life from work. You’re late again, I’m gonna write you up.” 


“Sorry to hear that.  If you need to put in for PTO, 

I can walk you through the process.  You sound worried. Tell me more.”

The middle-ager sat on the park bench eating a sack lunch, reading a brochure. An elder sat down next to them.  “If you don’t mind my asking, what are you looking at?”    “It’s a pamphlet about a tour to Greece.  I’ve always wanted to go there, ever since I was a kid. The history, the architecture, the culture. Wow.”     “Sounds like it’d be pretty expensive.  And you know, travel isn’t as safe as it used to be, what with all those germs, and people who’ll steal from you as soon as look at you.  I’d think twice about that.  I hear San Francisco is nice.”


“Ahhh. Bucket list!!! Tell me more.”

That same elder is walking a dog around the neighborhood.  An acquaintance walks by and says “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you out walking Fido.”    “Yes, that’s true. My husband isn’t doing well, more and more slow and forgetful, and the doctor keeps saying he needs to go to a home. I don’t really know what to do.”    “Wow. That’s rough.  Mr Jones down the street had the hardest time getting his wife in a place.  Heard tell he had to sell the house just to afford it.  Greedy bastards.  Kick a man when he’s down.  Well, you take care now.”


“I’m sad to hear that.  You all have been together for what – more than 50 years?

Hard to imagine making a change like that. So, Tell me more.”

You and Me?  Them and Us?  Age is irrelevant.  Everyone has dreams and celebrations and joys. We all also have frustration, fears and sorrow. 

When pausing a moment to connect with another, when sharing something that matters, nothing is more powerful than to hear them say:  

“Please, Tell me more.”

Namaste’ to you