My Sixth Sense in Museums

In school, I disliked history because of the male bent of wars and conquering heroes. Too shy to ask questions of my teachers, I felt them swirl in my brain. I wanted to ask: What did women do during war? How did children cope? What about the men too old to fight? What was everyone feeling?

That lack of history knowledge led to my loving exploration of museums. Last weekend I visited my new favorite, the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston, Massachusetts. As my son and I soaked it in and marveled, a quiet wave of my sixth sense pervaded everything. In the Puritan room, I “saw” children playing and women cooking. In the Revival Jewelry area, I “glimpsed” creamy necks and beautiful faces. In the Musical Instruments room, I “heard” sweet music. On marble statues, I “saw” strong hands carving.

The older I get, the more I love history. I only wish I had studied and read more of it. There’s a Pennsylvania Dutch saying that fits. “Too soon old and too late smart.”