It didn't help that I was dealing with a nasty head cold; and a bus-full of energetic kids wasn't the right kind of medicine. However, while our students were enjoying the playground, I got the chance to rest beside the water. A gentle breeze whispered through the leaves of the giant trees around me; soothing and cool. Nearby a wild duck lazily bobbed about on the shimmering Crescent Lake. This medicine worked better.
I was reminded of a beautiful old hymn, by Rob Lowry (1864).