Amazing how a picture of a child 5,000 miles away can grab
you and make you cry. I feel the lump in my throat as I turn on Facebook and
scan all of my friends for any tidbits of news from Brazil. From my part of
Brazil. My part of Brazil that doesn’t have access to internet or computers, so
I rely on the reports of others who care.
And I must continue to trust that others do care. That I did
not create a void that cannot be filled. That when I left, my kids won’t receive what they need.
No. That is not true. Each one of my children have been left in the most
capable of hands—hands of men and woman that cried along with me in the pain
and struggle.
Yet sometimes I wonder who will take care of the hole in my
heart that they left.
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