for those precious children

12.16.12

i weep today.

i weep for a world that has lost

wide-eyed innocence,

and will never see the potential,

the beauty, the unique joy of so many

bright children.

i weep for you little ones

who lost your lives to senseless violence

to evils you never imagined

to tragedies you never deserved.

i weep for you who greeted each morning

with joy and excitement

and for you who ended each day clutching a teddy bear

and whispering a prayer

for you who filled your mommy’s heart with a special love

for you who held the key to your daddy’s heart

for you who was just learning to tie your shoe

for you who was a big brother or a little sister or a younger brother

or an older sister

for you who had an angelic demeanor

for you with the mischievous eyes

for you with the endearingly crooked smile

for you who looked forward to Christmas and cookies and snow

for you who enjoyed the hot sun on summer days

as you played and swam and ran.

i weep for the one

who looked so beautiful

in her new pink boots and dress that day

and for the one who always said “please” and “thank you”

as she wiggled and giggled

and the one who sang so beautifully, hitting every note

and for the one who loved animals and a simple breakfast sandwich

and the one who loved to ride his bike and be an athlete

and for the one who left behind his best friend, his twin sister.

i weep for all you little ones who have been taken

because of war and genocide

and corrupt government

and inadequate laws

and atrocities that your family

tried so hard to shield you from

and domestic abuse and random acts of violence

and even selfish mothers and violent fathers

and heartless siblings and

cold individuals and

a cruel world

in need of Redemption and Love.

i did not know you.

yet i weep for you

because in my children’s eyes

i see what you once had,

that special sparkle, that extraordinary light,

that expression of promise,

that same love.

May You Rest in Peace.

Comments

The Most Beautiful Mama

My mama has always been beautiful. It is a beauty that is natural and effortless and is the type of beauty that filled my heart with longing when I was a child. I can recall staring at how flawless the even color of her skin was, how adorable the few freckles were on her cheeks, how symmetrical her nose was. I remember thinking how absolutely perfect she looked in a sari, her pleats folded so pristinely, and the tuck of material into her waist seamless and smooth. I would often feel the softness of my mother’s hands. Hands that had delicate fingers that moved with precision and purpose. Hands that kneaded chapati dough and even held tight to a lawn mower. No matter what she did, her hands were always soft, always welcoming, always beautiful. But she never liked to focus on her own physical beauty. My mother’s true beauty comes from within. I understood certain aspects of this inner beauty when I was a child. The beauty that comes from her servant’s heart and her work ethic -

conversations.

i find myself thinking a lot about the condition of this world, of this nation, and of the hearts of man. i just open my eyes and really look around or open my ears to truly listen, and i cannot help but face the reality of evil. the reality of corruption. the reality of prejudice. the reality of inequality. the reality of bigotry. the reality of entitlement. the reality of self-righteousness. the reality of immorality. the reality of sin. i have struggled with the presence of these realities for a significant part of my life, and maybe to some degree for all of my life. but now i struggle with them beyond my identity as a woman, or a child of immigrants, or an educator, or an indian-american, or a Christ follower. i struggle with these harsh realities as a mother. you see, we are trying our hardest to raise three people who will one day change their world. i believe that they can, and i pray that they will. these three little girls have hope in their souls and eternity i

i am left...

it was a grocery store in buffalo. and it was a church in laguna woods. and it was an elementary school in uvalde, texas. it is all the times in between and all the times before. and God please help us, it is all the times after. i am left with my mind in a jumbled mass of arguments and anger, my heart a knot of ache and pain. i am left with my soul stretching its voice to plea. i am left as i attempt to send my children off to school and myself to walk into my own classroom with my will torn to shreds... barely a thread hanging onto any purpose at all. i am left weeping before bed, sobbing on the way to work, shuddering at the thought of this happening and america continuing on like usual. i am left scrolling through pictures of beautiful humans that will never breathe again, left reading posts of those who miss the laughs of their cherished, left staring at photos of special occasions, a frozen moment that was supposed to be one in a series of many more. left searching for the

butterfly. babies. love.

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