What Tears May Come

Tornados on Wednesday morning.

The aftermath and outpouring of support.

The show of love and concern by all those who got in contact to check on me and my family.

And another round of storms today.

It has been an emotionally-charged and physically-demanding week. I have been grateful, heartbroken, exhausted, disappointed, relieved, anxious, worried, frustrated and frightened.

But today, I was moved to tears.

Of all the things that might have done it, it was this image that opened the floodgates. (And this editorial only multiplied the effect.)

Having grown up in Harrisburg in rural Southern Illinois, I have lived many years with an awareness of the gulf between the sensibilities of the big city (Chicago) and the small town.

Today, the Chicago Tribune reminded me that there is nothing so powerful as standing in solidarity with another, there is no action more meaningful than standing shoulder-to-shoulder with someone to silently convey, “You are not alone.”

How much more significant is that act when offered by a brother or sister with whom you don’t always see eye to eye. The silent tears on my face are a testament to that fact.

Thank you, Illinois. You ARE Harrisburg.

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About MargaretAnne

Preacher, Writer, Aunt, Composter, Sew-er, Crafter, Dog-lover, World-traveler, Artist, Canner, Cook, Pray-er, Sister, Retreat-leader, Reader, Daughter.

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