Her

I wish I could change the world. For real. For the better. I wish that mean people would be taught lessons, and they'd see the light and be proven wrong. I wish that good always prevailed and evil always lost. I wish that I could protect my loved ones from every bump, every bruise, every wrong. I wish I could at least change her world...

Less than two years ago, she lost everything. She lost her husband--the man she knew since she was 16. The man who taught her about love, about life, and unfortunately, about pain. The man who was everything. Then, she lost her home. Granted it was only a place she had lived in for three years, but it was her home, a place where she made memories. Then, she lost all of her belongings. The past 40 years of collections given away to ministries and shelters, unable to afford to move them and no home to store them in. Then, she lost her job--a place where she felt important, special and loved. A place where she felt like she belonged. She lost and left it all less than two years ago...and moved out to CA. Why? Because I needed her. Because she needed me. Because we both needed...something, and couldn't have Dad.

Now, I feel as though she is my child, in a way. She has so much to learn. She was sheltered for so long under the warmth of a husband and a church...and her children. Not that life was great--it wasn't--but once you lose everything, you forget its flaws and only remember it's beauty. I don't want her to lose anything more. I don't want her to feel any more pain. I wish I could shelter her from all of the world's pain, like a mother cradles her baby inside a blanket close to her heart. I wish that I'd never hear the sound of her cries again--only laughter. Laughter at a second chance, at a life rebuilt.

At her new job, the employers treat her horribly. They have it out for her--the sweetest woman in the world--most likely because she is more knowledgeable than they are and they hate it.

Something happened to her today at this new job...something bad...she was accused of something she didn't do, and forced to sign something saying she did it or she'd lose her job. How did this evil find its way into her life? Hasn't she experienced enough for one lifetime?


I wish that mean people would be taught lessons, and they'd see the light and be proven wrong. I wish that good always prevailed and evil always lost. I wish that I could protect my loved ones from every bump, every bruise, every wrong.

But they aren't. And it doesn't. But I can't.