Children Goodness of man

The Cry of One

We’re one. Sometimes we forget, and get on with the dividing and sorting and fencing and grading and grouping, and I’m quick to say that such classification, in certain situations, is wise and necessary. But at the core–we’re one. One people. One race. That of the race called human. So then, as I watched on my computer screen this morning, from across the globe, a little Chilean boy, so hurt, so anxious, began to cry, and because we’re one, because we’re kin, I too cried. As no doubt, did you.

In this complex, rabid world where we jostle for rights and opportunity, where we scrape and claw and position ourselves for ascendancy, it is a good thing to be jerked into the glaring reality that we are one. It is good that the world is riveted to that cold desert in Chile, and that our hearts pound when another is raised from that dread dungeon, and that from thousands of miles away, we can cry with a little boy.

It is reported that as his dad was led away to be taken to the hospital, the child called. “Papi! Papi!” It breaks my heart, my human heart.

Getty photo.

Image from The Sun

By Shirley Buxton

Still full of life and ready to be on the move, Shirley at 83 years old feels blessed to have lots of energy and to be full of optimism. She was married to Jerry for 63 years, and grieves yet at his death in August of 2019. They have 4 children, 13 grandchildren and 11 great-grandchildren...all beautiful and highly intelligent--of course. :)

4 replies on “The Cry of One”

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