What is the difference that community makes? How does knowing we're loved and included change our sense of well being? Why is sometimes being the center of attention so important? What happens to us when our wounds are not acknowledged? Continually, it seems, my mind is working on these questions. A simple broken arm brought it all home for me this summer.
How can a virtual stroll in the park go so wrong? Actually, it was these dreaded scooters, but they were extensions of my children this summer--the children who had lost their legs to the dreaded Razor. Confidence. The danger was looming, but everyone had forgotten it.
A oft-traveled crack in the pavement--, this time it took her down and with it wiped out any water activities till the Fall.
She missed the picnic--the one to which she had been scooting home to take her little brother.
But the friends, the welcomed and welcoming community brought the picnic to her...
with notes and flowers and love filled up
And, invitations to play even though participation was truncated.
To be included when inclusion means sacrifice for those extending the invitation-this is profound because it is so clear and the one included understands what is given up and in the knowing feels honor...and...grace. Is loved.
Is this why pets have become so much like royalty in our culture? Have we replaced the love of humans with the the loyalty of animals? Have we been so hurt? I worry about the answer. This is too easy. In the meantime, my daughter is being taught well.
And this love from people, this full embrace by community, has outweighed physical pain. And, when considering the long-term implications of a broken heart, a broken arm seems a small sacrifice indeed.
September 27, 2011 | Share: