Hope hides in many forms. It hides in the shape of a silent prayer softly whispered by a wandering soul. It hides in a child's voice, in the gentle touch of their hand. It hides in a community that gathers together, and it hides in each and every one of us.
While I can't stop thinking about the tragedy that occurred on friday, I also can't seem to write about it. I can feel what it has done to my mind, to my heart. But those feelings cannot find their way to my fingers. Those feelings are gathered tightly and bundled together and I am not sure where to place them. I want to carry this bundle and toss it away, toss it into a forest filled with evergreens and life, I want to toss it into the ocean to sail away on a sea of waves. I cannot carry this weight around, this weight that waters my eyes and clenches my chest.
When a tragedy of such greatness occurs you can't help but think "what if that were me, what if that were my school and my children." And in that thought you embrace your heart and hold it out to those who have lost. You give your heart because you simply cannot imagine such pain. Such pain is not meant to exist, yet here it is, so prevalent in our world and I can't seem to understand why.
I ask these questions with watery eyes and a clenched chest. In that moment I quietly pick myself up and put "me" together to continue on in life because we are the givers of hope.
We are the role models
the mothers and fathers
who teach our children to love
who educate them
who embrace them
who guide them down each and every road
over every mountain
through every stream and storm.
It is in our children where hope is born and in our families where it will grow.