A Firefly Without a Light

This afternoon, alone in the car, driving to pick up Alice from school and listening to Runaway Train, my eyes welled up and I was overwhelmed by sadness. The sorrow just washed over me, and I couldn’t fight back the tears now running down my face. I thought about the little six year old boy who died in the arms of a beloved teacher, and how his mother wrote that knowing this gave her consolation. But I thought about the other 18 children who died in no one’s arms but their own.

And I thought about Luis, a former student, who was shot outside his home after nearly making an escape from his killers. I cried for the light that I had seen in Luis, the hope that his charm and his smarts would be enough to survive the streets he couldn’t seem to stay away from.
I also thought about the little boy I used to babysit who grew into a young man that murdered his mother in a fit of madness. My heart aches when I think about the burden he will carry for the rest of his life and I pray that he will have the strength to shoulder it.
And I cried because now, more than ever, I need to believe that there is good amidst evil, a reason to believe that there is more good than bad in this world. I thank the universe everyday for all that I have. 
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Twitter: @TheRoeder

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