Peace Is Not Won By

My Heart Is Heavy, She Thought. It’s Not Just A Saying. It Is What Is—heavy, A Great Stone Lodged In My Breast, Pressing Down My Whole Being. How Can I Even Stand Straight And Look Out Upon The World? I Am Doubled Over Into Myself And, For All The Weight, Find Only Emptiness.

To Fear Is One Thing. To Let Fear Grab You By The Tail And Swing You Around Is Another.

I Think, She Began Quietly, I Think We Want... Not Just Bread For Our Bellies. We Want More Than Only Bread. We Want Food For Our Hearts, Our Souls. We Want- How To Say It? We Want, You Know- Puccini Music.... We Want For Our Beautiful Children Some Beauty. She Leaned Over And Kissed The Curl On Her Finger. We Want Roses.

That Was The Rule That You Never Mixed Up Troubles At Home With Life At School. When Parents Were Poor Or Ignorant Or Mean, Or Even Just Didn't Believe In Having A Tv Set, It Was Up To Their Kids To Protect Them.

If We Marvel At The Artist Who Has Written A Great Book, We Must Marvel More At Those People Whose Lives Are Works Of Art And Who Don't Even Know It, Who Wouldn't Believe It If They Were Told. However Hard Work Good Writing May Be, It Is Easier Than Good Living.