You come across a story that renews your faith that the world is not quite as horrendous as we are sometimes led to believe it is. Today I found one that I'd like to share with anyone who might be listening:
Gate A-4
(I've never "reblogged" before, so if it doesn't work as I imagine it should, it will still be worth your "click." I promise!)
Naomi Shihad Nye has written a beautiful story on this page. Of finding a common language, and offering hope. It's something that we can each do everyday. And a common language is more than just words in a mother tongue--it is also finding a place beyond rhetoric or politics or opinions where we hold common ground with another human being who is standing with us in a joint moment of time.
And those people surround us every day, no matter what language they speak.
But I have to admit when I reached Nye's words "Always carry a plant. Always stay rooted to somewhere," there were tears in my eyes.
No matter how far you travel, bring along a little piece of home, and you'll never be alone.
Maybe it struck me because I've spent the morning writing a memory of an event I never really lived. Working on a scene for my book where the main character is reliving the memory of her husband's funeral, while standing before the grave of a stranger. It is the leaf in her hands that helps to ground her in the moment, pulling her back from a memory that threatens to crush her, and propelling her forward into her life.
Is there a connection between Nye's line and my ramblings here? To me there is. And it lies in our joint moment of time.
This morning I have learned from Nye. I hold her "leaf" in my hands--and I pray it will ground me, but move me forward as well.
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