We Are Each Other


Against the backdrop of terrorist attacks, rancorous politics, and over-opinionated internet hordes, I’m feeling weary and heavy-hearted today. Like all good bookworms, I find solace in reading, and right now I’m holding on to these words for hope and comfort:

“I want to know who you are. I want you to know who I am. I want us to make our own story in the world. I want our grandchildren to say about us that there was a time when many things looked dark, when people felt separated from each other and wars and pestilence and fear were rampant in both rich nations and poor nations. And people were distracted and busy, driven along in the deterioration of many things they held dearly. But then, in the nick of time, something that no one could see, and no one could stop, began to restore hope and instill them with wisdom and action: people began to remember the sweetness of story. People turned away from the behaviors that had ravaged neighbors and nature; people turned away from the machinery of war they had perfected; people turned back to each other, and sat down and talked and listened.

“I want to know who you are. I want you to know who I am. We may not even know why, until I hear your stories, until you hear mine. We may not even know why until something sparks between us that makes us smile or cry with recognition — not out of sentimentality, but out of commonality, waking our remembrance that we are each other.”

– Christina Baldwin, Storycatcher

[ Photo credit: Cyril Caton ]

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