What did that bitch do to us? After all we’ve been through, how has it come to this?
I tipped my forehead onto the cold pane of glass and squeezed my eyes shut tight, feeling a single tear roll down my cheek. Defiantly I wiped it off with the back of my hand, refusing to give it any power. Instead, I opened the window a couple of inches and listened to the waves smashing relentlessly onto the rocky crag below.
The sounds, though untamed and fierce, relaxed my mind; they allowed me to find the calm and strength within myself that I was going to need. I watched a tuft of lovage growing in the cracks of the granite cliff blow in the wind coming off of the North Sea.
Above the water, an ominous purple-grey cloud mass seemed to be headed our way. I tracked the blur of rain in the weather front as it moved toward land. The storm would be here soon.
The door creaked behind me. “We’re back! Look what we brought you,” said a little voice.
I bent to take the two bunches of wildflowers into my hands. “Oh, aren’t they lovely? You must have walked for miles to find just the right ones!” I smiled. “Thank you! What if you ask Ronny where there might be a vase we could put them in? I’ll join you soon.”
They left the door open behind them and I heard their muted voices bubbling through the hall—sounds that tugged at my heart. The unconditional love of a child is beyond compare. It can cheer you, even when you’re in a grim and hopeless place all alone. Without knowing it, children have the power to lift you, to help you see the good, to give you a reason to carry on.
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