Leaving work today, I stared at the sidewalk, feeling so sad about what happened in Boston this afternoon. As I walked, I heard chirping, and as I got closer to my car, the chirping increased in volume until it was almost all I could hear. I finally spotted a little bird, sitting on a signpost, singing so loudly, with all the feeling in his tiny body, that his feathered chest puffed out and his little feet almost left the ground.
All of the sudden, that famous first line of Emily Dickinson’s poem —“Hope is the thing with feathers“— ran through my mind, and I was so overcome with feeling that my eyes started to well up. I’m so lucky that my friends who live in Boston—who happen to be some of my best—are OK, because I know there are a lot of people who aren’t. So to everyone affected by today’s tragedy, I’m sending thoughts of love, peace, and above all, hope.
P.S. On such a dark day, it’s so amazing to see the efforts of first responders and marathon volunteers and generous bystanders. Sometimes it’s hard to remember, but there is a lot of good in this world.