This morning, we awoke early before heading back home from Washington, D.C. I was gazing out the window at the lights glimmering off the river, when I heard my husband gasp. “Look at the sunrise,” he said.
I turned, and felt my chest fill.
I must apologize for the photo (taken on my cell – the colors were even more vibrant!), and the glare from the window, but I had to share this majestic view. In all the sunrises and sunsets I’ve witnessed over the years, I’d never seen anything like this. It took my breath away. It gave me hope.
You see, when I visit schools as an author, I encourage students to tell their stories loud and proud. That their words matter. That their voices can change the world.
This past week, so many people of all ages, colors, nationalities, cultural and ethnic backgrounds, gender and religion have been telling their stories. Sharing. Marching. Singing. Raising their voices and lifting us up in the name of love.
This morning, the sky reflected that light. That power. That love.
Keep talking. The universe is listening.