There are days when the world feels truly accessible. Days when the sun shines and strangers smile as they pass us by. There are days that fill me with courage; days that give me wings to soar.
Then there are days when the world feels especially big and inhospitable. Days when the wind is harsher and the people more hurried. There are days that leave me tired and isolated; a loner amid a faceless crowd.
On these days, when I cradle my daughter as she drifts off to sleep in my arms, my heart aches. It aches because I long to hold her forever. I long to wrap my arms around her and protect her from all that is cold, harsh and faceless.
And I’m not alone.
So often, I hear of mothers, fathers and grandparents, worrying about what this world holds for today’s children. We only have to turn on the news to understand the magnitude and potential for pain that this world offers.
Several months ago, my then-four-year old stopped to read the headline of a newspaper, propped up on display at our local grocery store.
“Mama, what is ‘fight’?” Her huge, pool like eyes gazed up at me in wonder.