“And what will we say to them?”

“We will say this –
One morning you woke up, and you were alive. A scattering of particles coalesced, grew, and were born into the world.
And when you woke that first morning you saw the universe – that cosmic tapestry woven billions of years ago – now unveiled in front of your crying, swollen eyes.
You saw the most remarkable thing, you saw existence, your existence, and the existence of a whole host of shapes and sounds and movements.
Everything was awake with a new splendor, as the morning stars sang together and all the son’s of God shouted for joy.”

“And then?”

“And then we just got used to it.”

And he said this, by the quarry, as time flew by, and as around them the children danced upon the moonlit world until the fires of their youth turned to risk aversion.