We’re Neighbors


On my desk sits a coffee cup full of pens which I reach for throughout the day.  It’s a cheerful mug with a hand-painted scene of a funicular in Valparaiso, Chile.  So last week when I heard of the fire that was raging through Valparaiso, and quite possibly burning neighborhoods whose streets I had walked, my heart was broken.

Instantly, I realized that I’m not always moved to heartache when I hear of a fire.  Certainly, I’m always sorry to hear of a blaze destroying homes and taking lives.  But when it’s happening in a place where I’ve been, emotions pull harder.

The world grows smaller as I travel.  The horrible news of the avalanche at the base of Everest felt like a knife wound, for I have stood there gazing at the base camp, marveling at the thought of the Sherpas risking their lives to prepare ropes for the climbing season.

We cry with tornado and hurricane victims once we’ve lived through such horrific storms.  We understand the fear of a rumbling earthquake after we’ve been in those shoes.

The people of this earth… my neighbors.  I’m thrilled to be living on this globe with all of you.


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