Letters Home: Section 1, Letter dated November 23

November 23
Katrina,



Thanksgiving, Sister, a day brought about because a group of people believed in each other enough to struggle through difficult days and long nights, knowing in their heart that together, eventually, they would find their way to a better life. Perhaps their survival was due not so much to hard labor or good weather or fortune as much as to their belief in each other, their dependence upon each other, their faith that the group, that each individual, was worth fighting for, was worthy of something better, something more.



We all need someone to believe in us, someone who believes that we’re capable and competent, someone who believes that we’re good enough. Everyone needs someone who will lift the spirits from time to time, a reminder in times of difficulty that perseverance will prevail, a reminder that each of us has the ability to succeed, that each of us is good enough. When someone believes in us, the doors of the future fly open, waiting for us to choose one to enter; although the road may not be easy, mistakes will be made, and doubt felt from time to time, the journey is made easier, the possibilities seem endless, and the path is made to be a brighter walk through life because humanity without built a light within.



But, it’s not enough simply to believe in someone, for one must express it; a positive light beaming from one heart to another like a ray of hope, love in its truest form, humanity. Words unspoken have a power all their own, but have meanings often misinterpreted as their opposite.



The candle is dim and the wick short for those who do not have someone to believe in them, someone to express to them regularly that they are capable, good enough, worthy. And, those unsupported by the humanity of others are easy to recognize, the light of their eyes dimmed to possibility, the tone of doubt in their voice, the troubled expression of sorrow upon their face, a spirit that gives up too easily in the face of difficulty, and a body that seems alone even in a crowded room, heartbroken, lost.



If a small group of people, such as the pilgrims, believed in each other enough to create for themselves a new world, imagine the good that would come to the world, imagine the humanity that would exist if humans began to feel as though each human--each and every one--was worthy, was good enough. The world, I think, would be a much better place, a kinder place where the true potential of humanity was unlocked.



Forever Sisters,
Christina





This work is fictional. Any resemblance to actual situations or persons, living or dead, is coincidental and unintentional.