I cannot fathom sitting on the beach one moment and the next being swept and tugged under a massive wave without warning. There were people who were cooking their food, listening to the radio, sleeping, working, driving, walking down the street, celebrating their birthday, and simply talking with each other. There were babies, kids, moms, dads, grandparents. There were pregnant women, the old, the young, the rich and the mostly-poor.
They were swept away, hopelessly weak when confronted with the force of the tsunami. Those who somehow survived are now faced with disease, hunger, and lack of shelter. We all know this. From around the world, here I sit imagining their shoes and trying to put them on, but I cannot fully.
Out of all the images that have been on the news, one picture in particular has stuck with me. It is of a mother cradling her dead child. The look of anguish on her face has placed a lump that fills my entire chest cavity. The child appeared to be about 2 or 3 years old. I looked at him and noticed his little ear. His mother will never again whisper “I love you” into it. How we all take those little ears for granted, the little eyes that shine, the little arms that hug and cling, the beating of the heart, and the smiles.
I hope the New Year will bring comfort, answers, safety, and healing for the hurting lives in Asia. It will be a long road for them. They will never be the same. I hope that all of us who can will help in some way.
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