Yesterday, I woke up feeling angry.
At the loss of innocent lives.Â
In tower blocks.Â
On bridges and inÂ markets.Â
On the streets of our most troubled neighbourhoods.
At people getting richer – and damn the consequences.
As souls are sold and bucks are made.
And the poor get left behind.
At the relentless self-interest of so many with power and influence.
And the toxic language ofÂ hatredÂ andÂ division.
At my inability to see the plank in my own eye and my remarkable capacity for hypocrisy.
At my failure to understand that I am my brotherâ€™s keeper. My sisterâ€™s too.
Â Â Â Â
And,Â yet, there is a stubbornness to hope.
As I watch firefighters step into burning buildings.
AndÂ paramedics bind up broken bodies.
AndÂ police officers venture repeatedly into the hurting places.
As I witnessÂ the extraordinary courage and compassion ofÂ them all.
And of those who insist that we have more in common.
And the kindness of ordinaryÂ peopleÂ handing out blankets and bottles of water;Â ofÂ childrenÂ offeringÂ clothes and toys;Â ofÂ neighbours opening front doors and strangers opening arms.
Being the very best thatÂ weÂ can be.