It seems strange to think about a world where we couldn’t protect you, a world where we would be forced to choose between the evils of home and that of the dark and icy water. Such horrors are so far removed from our daily lives. When we carry you home smeared with dirt and half-asleep it’s because you had such fun crawling through the long grasses and exploring the field, because home is not so far away and we know that our arms will not tire. We tuck you up in bed and listen to your soft breaths and baby whimpers and we know, with near certainty, that our home will be standing in the morning and nobody will harm us in the night.
Generosity is not in giving when you have enough to spare; it is in giving when you are already stretched, when you will notice the loss but not so much as somebody else will appreciate the gain. I hope that when you start school you will be joined by friends who won’t speak to you of their parents’ horrors because they will not remember, but who will teach you songs and phrases in the languages of their mothers. I hope that you will know these children. I hope that they are not left behind.
This is my weekly Living Arrows portrait. Love to have you link up below.
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