“You’ll Remember” is a sultry introduction with softly brushed drums and Griffin’s lush jazzy vocals. The song is wistful, yet as she sings, “maybe one day you’ll remember and it won’t be sad to think of all we had,” one’s heart aches a little less. That memory whisked aside with no segue, “Stay on the Ride” saunters up to an old man with a smattering of Latin percussion, its lyrics a stream of consciousness conversation with a bus-riding philosophical sage. Griffin soulfully wails along to horns and funk rhythm and if you don’t shake your hips, you might be dead.

“Trapeze” is a musical vignette of a fluid duet with Emmylou Harris. Their warm harmonies and balanced vibratos twirl ‘round and upwards, further painting the portrait of a trapeze daredevil whose courage is part of her hope. The music lilts along and culminates in Griffin banging her guitar and both women proclaim, “Hallelujah” over and over (and I must say, they ought to do a whole album together. This song and “Long Ride Home” from 1,000 Kisses are startling proof).

Once again without a pause, Griffin hustles in with a punk-rock assertion, “Oh baby I’m getting ready, I’m getting ready to let you go.” Instead of dismay at the idea of loss, the song offers control and self-respect. Most people can attest to the sentiment and while guitar distortion slides, you kick up your heels at dance, at least metaphorically.

Patty Griffin is labeled a singer-songwriter for valid reasons. Her voice is ambidextrous, able to sway from a sheer whisper to a wail without warning. And her words are perfectly placed, as in the song “Burgundy Shoes” recalling a fond childhood memory with her mother. This song is a verifiable poem as shown in the first verse:

We wait for the bus that’s going to Bangor

In my plaid dress and burgundy shoes

In your red lipstick and lilac kerchief

You’re the most pretty lady in the world

Sun

Further switching genres, “Heavenly Day” is a graceful doo-wop ballad fit for any diva, this one featuring an acoustic guitar and soaring strings that sound like light. Hope prevails throughout the next few songs, including an homage to Martin Luther King, Jr. (“Up to the Mountain (MLK Song)”) and then she dismisses defeat in “I Don’t Ever Give Up”:

I’m no fighter but I’m fighting

This whole world seems uninviting

But I don’t give up no I don’t ever give up

In my opinion, this is Griffin’s best album to date (which is saying quite a bit since her discography is excellent). Once again she kindly defies the false premise that she is merely a folk singer. Her diversity covers the aforementioned styles as well as R & B, blues, and Gospel, making her varied talents obvious. Production by Griffin herself and Mike McCarthy (Spoon) resulted in a sparse, precise sonic theme, one of luminescent beauty. Faces keyboardist Ian McLagan and recurrent guitarist/collaborator Doug Lancio are also vital elements on the album. John Mark Painter rounds out the list of esteemed guests as he conducted and arranged a nine-person string section that framed several of Griffin’s songs.

Griffin’s fiascoes with past record labels and some of her personal sorrows are well-known stories to her fans. However, no matter what life throws in Griffin’s path, these songs reveal her admirable strength and perseverance. Children Running Through validates my belief that as women live through years of joy and pain, they also acquire a beauty that births wisdom and elegance. These are replete in Patty Griffin, producing her very own cult following. Loyal fans are also mesmerized by her distinctive voice, especially as it opens and closes this album, softly hushed. The last song, “Crying Over,” set to a country swing-waltz tune, is more melancholy than the first, but hope still prevails with a glimmer in Griffin’s distinctive whisky voice.