Tuesday, October 19, 2010


I just got back from a 2-week trip to the Mediterranean. Great trip but I was ready to come home. I missed the peace and quiet of my house, my family, friends, and neighbors. I missed my bed, computer, and the green grass and changing leaves of New England.

All that sun was beautiful, and the ancient ruins and wonderful art a treasure, but communication was often difficult since I don't speak Greek or Italian. It made me even more aware how hard it is for children and women at the shelter who struggle with English when they're already struggling with so many losses and fears.

I don't have either problem. My losses are normal ones; my fears are small. My house and family are a mostly a comfort. I consider myself very lucky.

I'm not afraid to enter my door, don't tense up when my husband comes home, don't fear him or anyone.

Wouldn't it be wonderful if all women felt this way? If all children wanted to be home because it feels comfortable and safe, instead of because they need to be sure Mom is all right? Or because Dad made them terrified not to get home before curfew? Or because they had to be sure they'd done their chores done exactly right?

No home is perfect but every home should be a place you want to be. Where you feel safe, loved and protected.

Imagine losing that dream piece by piece, day by day and count your blessings.

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