I wasn’t going to blog yesterday, assuming there are thousands of blogs posts, speaking about the tragedy in Boston.
I’ve thought about a lot of things since returning from my trip to the beautiful city, which was filled with equally beautiful people.
The cabbie who rambled on about how I shouldn’t ever settle for “gawbage” in a man, his thick accent drawing giggles from me, and mine from him. He spoke about how he was trying to teach his 14 year old daughter to value who she was, and what she wanted in life. And he drove me around for an extra ten minutes trying to find The Museum of Natural History in Cambridge, because he didn’t want to “leave me all by myself” on the street to find it myself. He asked countless people on the street so he could leave me right at the front door.
There was the sweet boy, with the arm cast on the subway, who after watching me help his father off the subway with a baby in a stroller, stepped to the side to smile and let me off the train before him.
And the beautiful couple at The Harrington House who opened their doors and arms to me, and watched out and helped me on my first trip to the city.
When I was standing and waiting for the bus, there was a sweet little girl with sparkly, sequined shows, and I told her I liked them. Her sweet smile and bashfulness was honest and true.
On that bus ride home, an older man who was walking with a limp, after me asking if I was on the right bus, promptly took a seat next to me to ensure I got off on the correct stop. Making sure the bus driver understood exactly where to drop me off so I didn’t have far to walk.
On Sunday evening, after helping Adriana with a flat tire, there was the sweet tow truck driver who didn’t want to leave us alone to wait for the cab to come back, and him driving us to the nearest restaurant so we didn’t have to be alone. A mile out of his way, nonetheless. And listening to our girly ramblings the entire way, with a smile on his face.
I left that evening, on Saturday, thinking of all of the fear and warnings I had received about traveling to the bigger city alone, something I have never been afraid of living near Seattle and Seoul, South Korea.
I thought about how the color runs true in humanity, that all is not lost. It will never be as long as the good out-numbers the bad by the tens of thousands. It’s when we point fingers to the constant negative, and skip over the helpers, the life-savers, and the true and honest goodness that emerges from tragedy, that we will lose. While there is evil that lurks in the shadows, there are ten more to that one act of evil, that will prove good does exist and humanity is not lost at all.
I was thinking today, last week someone told me they were going to “show” me that the world wasn’t as beautiful as I believed it to be, and that raising my children to believe that was lying to them and leading them to be oblivious to the evil in the world.
When you engulf your child in negativity and prepare them to accept the fact that cynicism and negativity are the only things left in this world, we will lose.
The world is a beautiful place. We should be pointing fingers at those who rise up every single day and prove that, that is indeed the truth of our world.
It isn’t about money, or power. It is about simple acts of kindness of love. It is about the fact, that even when someone is in a dark place, they can be returned to the light. If we give up on that hope and lead our children down a path of darkness, that is all they will every know.
Show them the heroes. Show them the good. Show them how to be kind, and recognize a mistake and apologize and fix it. Show them that love, simply, works. It may not work every single time, but a majority of the time, it does prevail. There are more acts of love, than that of evil and insanity.