| |
As I pause to watch
our sleeping cat all snuggled up on the kitchen rug, I'm struck by my own sense
of calm and well being. I realize that it's in the everyday routine of things
that I will begin to recover from the horrible attack on our country last week.
Be it ever so slow, I am sure we will all pull through.
Seems
as though we all have had more goodwill toward our fellow countrymen -- toward
each other -- during the past few days than ever before in my lifetime.
We're not complaining about much of anything, and when we do, we immediately acknowledge
that we don't have anything to complain about. And we're driving slower, waving
to others so they can merge into our traffic lane. Kind acts seem to define us
more than the kind of car we're driving.
Basically, we're like a wounded
family who just lost a loved one and our patience with each other's shortcomings
seems boundless. "Hurry up" has been replaced by "Take your time" and long-lost
friends are calling just to say "Hello."
We're afraid, but not afraid
to show it. And for the first time in a very long while, we believe what the politicians
are telling us. Parents are letting their children see them cry, and spiritual
leaders are acknowledging they don't have all the answers.
Teachers
find themselves lecturing less and educating more while business men and women
ease up on their competition. We don't mind if packages can't arrive overnight.
Junk mail and phone solicitations haven't been cluttering our lives as much.
I think of all the things the terrorists counted on when they attacked us.
Tightened security, military response and an angry government were unquestionably
among their expectations.
I wonder, though, if they knew how closely
we'd hold each other's feelings or how tenderly we'd treat our neighbors. Could
they have known we'd sift through the dust of their destruction and find the gentleness
of our soul.
Surely not.
Copyright ©2001 Jeanne Moseley
| | |
