The Empty Classroom

 The classroom is empty now

Walls hold children’s excited voices

The floor absorbs their final breaths.

All is silent.

Outside, wind whispers in trees stripped bare.

Inside homes holiday joy is banished by grief.

Hearts are broken…yet…

Spirits are strong.

Throughout the country—the world,

People look into the faces of children and see:

Charlotte, Daniel, Olivia,

Josephine, Ana, Dylan, Chase

Jesse, Emilie, Jack, Noah,

Caroline, Jessica, Benjamin,

Allison, Madeleine, James,

Catherine, Grace, and Avielle,

Their earth voices stilled.

Their angel voices sing in our hearts.

Churches are filled.

God weeps with us.

Held together by an invisible thread,

We will learn to live, laugh, and love again.

The Persian poet, Hafiz, writes,

Come Dance with me…

And so we dance our sorrow; our rage,

We dance our way out of despair

Into Hope,

Into Courage to go on

Into Joy.

            I was sitting at the computer trying to compose my annual Christmas letter.  The song, “Love Came Down At Christmas” kept running through my head.  My thoughts turned to the conflicts that surround us at every turn.  I wonder if instead of focusing on the conflicts, allowing them to draw us in, feeling we need to take sides, what would happen if we focused as strongly on love and understanding.

            Today Love came down to me as I listened to NPR’s Krista Tippet’s interview with Robi Damelin, mother of David, who was killed in the Israeli/Palestine conflict and Ali Abu Awwad whose brother was also killed.  Together they have chosen to face their grief and pain not by turning to violence, but by getting to know and understand the other side.  Today I heard their shared story and the story of a network of survivors who share their pain and their humanity and explore their ideas for lasting peace.  They are more interested in being honest than in being right.  I’m looking forward to watching their story in the Documentary Film, “Encounter Point” which I’ve put on my Netflix list. 

Robi shared a personal experience.  Someone she met had told her she felt the need to go overseas to work for peace.  Robi suggested she could work for peace wherever she was.  There is conflict everywhere.  Standing next to this white woman were three black women.  They turned and looked at each other and one spoke up, “Would you like to get together?”  And so they began in their corner of the world.

Just recently here in Centennial Farm, a quiet, beautiful, peaceful community where I live, discord has reared its ugly head.  Sides have been drawn.  Voices raised in anger—neighbor against neighbor.  I feel drawn into the conflict, yet I wonder…Could I get to KNOW those on the other side?  Could I listen to their concerns with an open mind, not preconceived judgment?  Could I take seriously their concerns, their fears?  Could I strive to understand their perspective?  I recognize I have far to go.  I am prone to arguing my side of things and someone opposing me only intensifies my need to control and “win”.  What if I thought more about being honest, than being right?  What if I truly loved them in my heart and it showed through?  I believe Love is the answer, easy to say but difficult to put into practice. 

                       

Love teaches us

to love our enemies

to listen with our hearts

to not let our differences separate us.

to connect through our common humanity.