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Year Three, Day 280: Healing the Wounded

It is late Friday night. Baby Gracie is sleeping soundly in her crib. Honey Dog is curled up in her doggie bed. My daughter and her husband have gone to bed.

I am sitting in a recliner listening to the rain bounce off the roof of the trailer. It seems to fit perfectly with the saxophone lullaby DVD that Gracie listens to at bedtime.

Usually I feel comforted by the rain. But tonight I am feeling restless. There is a forecast of possible snow tomorrow. And low temperatures in the 20's through Tuesday evening.

I am still processing this latest shooting. My daughter told me not to dwell on it; not to let the darkness consume me.

It has partially consumed me. I ache, not only for the victims, but for the shooter. It seems to me he was crying for help. But no one responded. And now it is too late. How many people feel isolated, lonely and misunderstood. People that are outcasts and misfits? Thankfully most of them do not resort to violence. But is it possible to reach them? To make them feel loved?

I look at my beautiful sleeping grandchild. How will we keep her safe?

On Thursday, after teaching one of my middle school students, his grandma pulled me aside. She thanked me for continuing to teach him, even though he did not always practice.

"I can't believe how he just sat and talked to you about his rough day at school", she said.

I told her I determined a long time ago that the bond that was created between my students and I was more important than even the music lessons.

"He truly loves music because of you", she said grabbing my arm. "Even when he doesn't practice".

I felt tears well up behind my eyes as I left.

If only all the troubled kids of the world had an adult that would come sit by their side once a week, ask them about their day and they ask them to put their feelings into music.

Would that heal the wounded? I'd like to think so.

I have no more words tonight. Except for words I whisper later on in my prayers. Perhaps I will imagine Jesus sitting by my side, asking me about my day.

Talk to you tomorrow.

Love,

Zita



P.S. Here is today's hooping video. Day 240.


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