November 12 is different for me this year—different because I am still remembering November 11. For as long as I can remember I have spent November 11 doing what the media have asked me to do—remembering the sacrifices of soldiers and their families, gratefully appreciating my own personal freedoms. What I did on past Novembers 12 I frankly have no idea.
But today I am remembering yesterday—not because I reconnected with the soldiers and the wars, though certainly I did do this—but because I also held Baby Matty, 2 days old, weighing in at 6 pounds 10 ounces. What I noticed as I cradled her was that I felt hopeful, hopeful for the future. It felt strange. Hope is something I do not usually feel on November 11. Though I don’t dispute the importance of remembering the sacrifices of the soldiers and their families, I try hard to hope there will be no more wars. While others see this hope on November 11, I have yet to be convinced that remembering past wars helps us prevent future wars. Holding Matty, for whom anything is currently possible, I really did wonder, if more of us held more babies, came closer to the perfect hope of an unfolding life at its very beginning, would we be more motivated to work harder to prevent the wars that cause so much pain?
1 comment:
Yesterday I was sick with a cold, and as I was crashing on the couch at my mom's and half asleep, my 7-year-old niece came up to me, tucked a blanket around me and put a teddy bear in my arms... It brought tears to my eyes, and suddenly nothing in life seemed more important than family and love, and the world was only as large as my niece, a teddy bear and me. You give me hope, Wendy! I was at a seminar you gave in Grande Prairie last month, and I loved you, you were great!!!
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