Like many of you, I suspect, I have over this past holiday period experienced a turmoil of emotions. The massacre of schoolchildren and their teachers in Connecticut, the killing of firefighters at Webster, the horrible rape-murders in India, the murder of health workers in Pakistan, not only silence concern about other matters, but challenge our ability to come to any kind of terms with what particular human beings can continue to justify. There is a time to cry, and to grieve, and to feel anguish, but it is still hard to accept that for so many people in our world it is already too late to retrieve any hope and determination that our humanity can heal us. How can we go on? But we do, as we must.
In my own attempts to find a meaningful direction for action in response to those dreadful events, I found that I couldn't even find reassurance for myself, let alone anyone else. Perhaps it is still too early to try. What we can do, though, is celebrate the quiet heroism of those whose very being reminds us of the potential fellowship available to us. Now and again, the significance of the horrors we have unknowingly colluded in producing is outweighed by our intuition that we are capable of creating a future that depends more on aspiration and fellowship than on fear. Malala is not alone. There is not only a bit of her in all of us, but a bit of us in everyone else. All of us matter. That is what we need to hold in our minds and in our hearts.
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