It seems there were a lot of losses over the past few weeks. I was saddened to learn that dance legend, Maria Tallchief passed away after complications from a hip fracture at the age of 88. Her role model informed a large part of my early life. You can read more about that here
For a wonderful article about Maria's life and work, visit the New York Times here
While saddened by the passing of this wonderful dancer, she had a lovely, long, and productive life.
However, the horrific loss of life in the Boston bombing brought home, once again, just how isolated Americans are from the everyday reality of violence in many other parts of the world. When I was a child we lived through part of the efforts of the Moroccans to gain independence from France. As scary and violent as those times were, at least there seemed to be a legitimate reason for the Moroccans to fight the French occupation of their country. I am struggling to understand how this event could ever make any sense. One journalist lamented the loss of the sense of safety that had previously been taken for granted by the people of Boston. And yet, Boston was the birthplace of the American Revolution resulting from the civil disobedience of the Boston Tea Party. I wonder about the ethical questions that arise from civil disobedience. Is violence ever justified? If so, when? The person, or persons who planned this attack, must have had reasons for it. I wonder what they thought? Were they mentally ill or willing to sacrifice innocent life for some cause that they perceived as more important than human life?
This photo is of Martin Richard, who never had a chance for a productive life, holding a banner (made in Sunday School?) which shows the symbols of love and the Holy Spirit. I wonder at the incredible love of God who could forgive a person that would take this child's life.
Saddened and horrified as I was, I was so relieved that my friends Kerry and Todd, had returned from Boston, home to Albuquerque before this happened. Kerry would have been competing in that race and her children may have been at the finish line. And selfishly (because so many did not have such good news,) I was gladdened to hear from my blogging friend Steve, of Urban Cottage, who lives in Boston that he had been home, safe and watching the race and then the devastation on TV.
To the people of Boston, I pray your lives will return to normal, that the injured will heal, that the families of those who died will find comfort, and that we all will find ways to forgive and move forward to begin to create a world free of violence for our children and grandchildren.