Last night, I held a three-week old baby. A wee little guy named Victor, who at one point screwed up his face and looked like he was about to let out the kind of ear-piercing wail characteristic of a pre-verbal humanoid, only to then smile a little and settle back into my arms.
On the one hand, I look at the world around me and am astounded that anyone would even consider bringing a child into this crazy, messed up place we call life. I read the news filled with rhetoric and discord, anger and hate, and I think, it's only getting worse; a world where fear, unkindness, selfishness, conflict, partisanship, and death seems to be the norm. Out of seven billion humans on the planet, how can one little, infinitesimal human being possibly make any kind of difference. Abysmal thinking, isn't it?
On the other hand, holding a baby overwhelms and fills me with hope, and I admire people who are courageous enough to create something of themselves. A someone they hope will be somebody. A someone they hope will contribute positively to the world around them. A someone who embodies the innocence and hopefulness we all want to be and feel, but seem to have forgotten.
For one little moment last night, I held peace and felt hope.
Photo copyright: Rebecca Mudrick. All rights reserved.