I wanted to wrap that young girl in my arms, hold her tight against so much uncertainty and destruction. But there was nothing I could think to say to soothe her soul, nothing that wasn’t a lie.
The little voice in my head returned, snarky and filled with accusation. ‘Step aside. Give someone else a chance. You’ve had your time.’ It was true—how delicious would it be to watch a twenty-something step up to the plate!
It’s 2065. My great granddaughter Sophie is fifteen. She has the same fascination with her past that my sister had with our past…there’s something humbling about knowing that others came before and others will come after.
I sat forward in my seat when I heard Robin Ganahl speak this weekend at a climate conference. She has a quiet, steady, purposeful presence—just what is needed in her role as community team leader for Mothers Out Front, a national advocacy organization mobilizing for a livable climate.
In her essay, “Winter Solstice”, Lisa Hupp says, “[i]t takes courage to love a place, to deliberately choose digging in and taking responsibility for its fragile well-being. Recognizing the magnitude of our impact on the community of life that sustains us means coming to terms with fear, loss, and degrees of despair.”