Aaron and Elana
Here it is. Here I am. Ground zero. This is where the blast went off. Look at it. It's not quite devastation, but it left its marks.
Explosions are like that–they affect everything around them, through the weaving of the world's strands of personal relationships and economical relationships and spiritual relationships that nobody can prove. Mount Vesuvius buried Pompeii. Mount St. Helens devastated the surrounding landscape. But the repercussions don't stop there. The Philippines feel each Alaskan tremor. A tropical storm through the Gulf of Mexico sends shockwaves around the world. Like a butterfly's wings, only bigger.
I just witnessed this on a smaller level. Like an earthquake, massive stresses build up until the very ground beneath our feet cannot take it anymore. It buckles, it shudders, and it lets go. It releases every last shout and shudder of energy it has, and devatates a town.
This isn't so big, the whispers claim, This isn't so bad. They'll get over it. They'll work things out. The fabric will be stiched, patched. Wounds recover. That's what we want to think, because it gives us reason for optimism.
It's true, but not how you think it is. What is a disaster? A cataclysm upon the earth means only that people's lives, their relationships, have been broken. That is truly the disaster. Economic presssures — simply another way of avoiding thinking about people suffering. When disasters happen, we send in the red cross. We send doctors to heal their wounds. We send engineers to rebuild their cities. But we cannot rebuild their lives. We cannot bring back their wives and their children.
But that's not the point, remember?
This isn't such a disaster as it seems. What is life but a patchwork of taped and sewn bits of cloth that started out a brand new blanket? What we are is not a bright and spangled quilt on display in a fabric shop. We are the woolen coat that kept the children warm as they huddled together beside the road, hoping for a handout. We are the bum's blanket. Our character is defined by the wounds we recieved, we are what we are because of the scars we wear.
So, I will talk with those that are suffering. I will help where I can, and the least I can do is enough to make it worthwhile. Ground zero is a frightening place, but there are some things you can only do on the spot.
What do we do? We do what we can. We are the red cross for soul, and its a duty we cannot ignore.