If you visit Philadelphia, you'll see a very famous piece of art, it's the "L-O-V-E" Sculpture. Four gigantic letters set out in a public park for everyone to see. L-O-V-E tipped slightly askew, standing alone in a grassy field.

And that's what love is -- slightly flamboyant, somewhat alone, slightly cockeyed. But still longer than life, larger than anything else; it rules. Or it should rule.

I listened on Sunday to the Vinyl Cafe on CBC and came away profoundly shaken. This week, the program was all about love. Connect this tale to your psyche and listen closely as I relate to you a children's love story.

Once, there was a nice, ordinary family -- two parents, one younger brother and one teenage girl. They all lived together in a big city where the big bad wolf and the wicked witch were drugs and alcohol and evil companions.

"We have to stick together," said the father. "We need to have rules," said the mother. "I'm staying in a nice, safe brick house," said the little brother. "Screw you," said the teenage daughter, and she proceeded to go out and live her life.

Curfew came and went, but the big sister did not come home. Mother and father worried and drove through the big city, looking for big sister. Night after night, day after day, big sister led her life! She used drugs, she drank too much cheap wine. She had sex with anyone, anytime and anywhere. "I'm grown," said big sister. "Cool," said little brother.

Mother and father wept and screamed and searched the big city, looking for their daughter. They didn't know what to do.

Finally, father said, "I know! We'll get help. We'll get a psychologist." "What a good idea," said mother. "What's that word? Psy...psycho...you know I mean mean?" said little brother.

The time came to visit the psychologist. "Not me," said big sister, and she slammed the door on her way out.

So, the diminished family of three went to see the psychologist together, but strangely alone.

The psychologist, whose name was Ms. Young, said, "I can't help your daughter," and the small family of three sighed and huddled closer. "But..." Ms. Young said, "I can help all of you."

"How is that possible?" said the father. "We don't need help, our daughter needs help." "Yes," said little brother, "I can't help. I'm too little to do anything."

"Listen closely," said Ms. Young, "Your daughter, your sister doesn't feel loved." "WHAT?!" yelled everyone at once. "We all love her, we love her very much."

"She doesn't believe that," said Ms. Young. "She doesn't feel that love."

"What should we do?" They asked.

"Love her more." Said Ms. Young. "Do not yell at her, make curfews but when she breaks them, as she will, don't lock her out. Bad things can happen on those streets late at night. Include her in everything and, oh yes, the most important thing, tell her you love her. Tell her every day how much you love her. Tell her endlessly, over and over, how much you love her. Praise her, say good things about her, tell her everyday how important she is to you and how you admire her."

"But," said the mother. "What if we can't find any good things to say?"

"Lie," said Ms. Young. "Lie. Make things up. Tell her you love her and tell her she's wonderful and tell her about every good thing she says or does. Let her know that she is good. That you, as a family, see all her goodness shining through."

And so, the little family went home and made a pact and said they would try.

"Neat wallet, Sis," said little brother. "Thanks for coming home last night," said mother. "I love you," said father. "No, I love you," said little brother. "We all love you," said everybody. And so, they did. Every day it became easier and every day there were more good things to say and every day love grew like a magic mushroom.

Until one day, the teenage daughter said, "I love you too!" Imagine, the joy and tears and carousing. This is not to say that everyone lived happily ever after -- this is a true story, not a fairy tale. There were slip-ups and setbacks and screaming and tears and serious arguments too, but this family, this small family, was held together by the glue of love. And when the little brother became a teenager, there was definitely more angst, more than anyone wanted. Even little brother wasn't so little anymore. But that's families for you, cracking apart and springing back together, traveling down that yellow brick road. Moving on and growing up.

I like this saying,

"You can give your child
two things,
roots and wings."

Think on that -- even if you've heard it before, refresh it often in your mind.

Roots for staying, and wings for taking flight. Each one as important as the other.

As the Beatles said,

"All you need is Love."
And so you do.
"Love is all you need."
And so it is.

This blog is dedicated to a 15-year-old boy who has lost too many people in his young life. You know who you are. Everyone who reads this blog is sending you love today. Me too. WE LOVE YOU.