Before I begin my post, I just want to take this opportunity to extend lots of internet hugs to those affected by all the recent tragedies. *Gives lots of hugs*
Seeing these tragedies over and over again on the news has left me thinking one thing: These people need time to heal. Living through it was enough, now they have to see it over and over again in the media.
Silence is golden. Replaying these events every day on the news is only hampering this healing process. The morning cannot come if we are stuck in perpetual night.
Thinking about all this led to me digging out a short story I wrote several years ago. It reminds me of why this is so crucial in a noisy world:
Gazing at the chaotic reality laid down before her, Blithe sat down to think. How could she have lived this cold, harsh life for so long? Before her lay a war zone; corpses everywhere and this once sacred land washed over with blood. Everyone was dead and she had nowhere to go. An orphaned child, caught in the middle of this malevolent civil war. Evil showed its true face: cruel and unrelenting.
Blithe knew that she had participated in this slaughter; she had been taught how to fight, after all. It was kill or be killed.
“You must not hesitate. Strike or be stricken. There is no place on the battlefield for a coward.”
She replayed this over and over again in her mind. It was all she could do to defeat the fear that tore away at her soul. Blithe got the job done as quickly and painlessly as possible. The carnage she wrought made her sick. They wanted her to be a heartless killer, but she was only a child. Her emotions were thrown away like garbage, never to return. She threw her sword at the ground and spat at it. She furiously kicked it until her energy was spent.
“It’s over. It’s all over now.” She curled up into a ball, desperately waiting for comfort to wash over her. “Please… someone come find me. I don’t want to be alone anymore.”
She knew that no one would find her here, this child bathed with blood. Silence was not golden; it was a dark, relentless misery haunting every day of her life. She yearned to hear laughter, signs of love. Her own voice sounded like knives piercing the air. She needed healing in this darkest hour, but none would come. There was no happiness, no hope of ever being normal. She was convinced she would die from the living hell of loneliness. If only she could cry…
A grand flash of light erupted over the battlefield in that moment, breaking Blithe from her trance. It made no sound, but caused Blithe to shield her eyes. The sun rose high in the sky. She cried out in surprise.
“Light? What is light doing here? Is this real?”
The flash disappeared and a small, white ball of light was now hovering near the broken girl. She reached out to touch it, and the light allowed her to do so. The immense feeling of warmth and calm she received from touching it was a blessing to her.
The silence was not so scary anymore. She felt safe around this light. Its presence followed her around wherever she went, even though it never spoke a word.
Blithe laughed for the first time in years. The noise of her tumultuous mind finally ceased. She took a deep breath and flooded herself with serenity. “I’m not a monster anymore. I can be free again.” She gave the light a hug and began to weep. She could live life now as a child, free from the burdens of a harsh world. The sorrow mended, it was time to move forward and live again. Blithe smiled, filled now with a sliver of hope