"Where the cheerful children of unwritten poems,
play all around, you will find me there."
Khadija Rupa
As a small child, it seemed to me that on the left were children filled with sunshine and laughter, constantly at play. On the right, were children who were slow moving, sulking, and hidden in their own shadows. I seemed to be the bridge in the middle extending one hand into the darkness to reach a wounded soul and pull him/her over the bridge and into the light.
I can recall in kindergarten sending blessings to crying children ignored by distracted care takers. When a child was slapped across the face or yanked by the arm, I too felt their pain. I prayed for them to be safe during the day and to feel some small sense of security from a new light surrounding them..
It is not much different as an adult. I still feel like a bridge connecting the wounded with the radiant. I desire for the darkness to lift just a mite for those hurting could glimpse the far away light to have hope rekindled in their hard, hard heart.
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