Along the lower lid of his eyes a line of tears were welling up, waiting impatiently for their moment to fall across his cheek. The moment did not come, but this man who has served here for many years opened his box of suffering just a crack and told of the excruciating pain and disappointment that he and his wife have endured these past ten years. I don’t have words to express the depth of his story. It isn’t for those who are committed to naïveté. It isn’t for those who think every story has a happy ending.
I have often marveled at the profound beauty of their souls. I now know where that beauty comes from. Gold is made beautiful by the hammer and by fire. They have quietly endured both. If they only knew how brightly they shine…how brightly they shine.
This is our community. And we bear one another’s burdens.