Magic bowl

The little boy appeared in my office door, motionless but very active -- taking in everything with his eyes. So I did what any civilized person would do: "Won't you come in?" He did, shyly, like Bambi stepping into an unexplored woodland glade. "What's your name?" "Hunter." "Oh. Do you hunt things?" "No." "Well, I like the sound of your name." Hunter's gaze fell to the ancient Tibetan singing bowl on my desk: "What's in there?" "Sounds! This bowl has wonderful sounds in it." I picked up the striker and rubbed the rim with the leather striker. That wonderful, low pitched moaning ring came forth, calling us to mindfulness. "See?" Hunter's eyes grew even wider with expanded wonder. He took it in for a moment, then dashed next door to his mother's office: "Mama, this man did wonderful magic, with this bowl that has sounds in it!"
"Except as you become as little children..."
Peace, w