Dangling their feet off the edge of the world.

babypixtable

“They came to sit & dangle their feet off the edge of the world & after awhile they forgot everything but the good & true things they would do someday. ”

 Brian Andreas,  StoryPeople

I have this picture and quote by Brian Andreas on the table that is reserved for newborn pictures of my grandchildren. I think it has the perfect sentiment. I love each one of these precious humans so very much! Each so unique and with so much potential to do good in the world.

Let's do all we can to ensure a bright future for them and for all of the children in the world. Their future is in our hands, all of our hands, just as the future of the generations to come after them in is their hands.

The connection between generations is more than just a continuation of families. It is a sacred trust that is passed from one generation to the next and the next, even to those generations far removed from our own.

It is a trust that we serve and honor by doing our best to live now, while we are on this earth, in a way that ensures future generations will have access to the resources we have now. It is a way of living that ensures the wonder and beauty of the natural world will still exist for them.

It is a way of living that says, "I did my best to be a good steward of the environment because I want the very best for you, my grandchild, and you, my great grandchild, and you my, great great grandchild, and all those children who are born into a future far removed from my own lifetime."

It is a way of living, that says, "I have lived fully with love, a love that extends not just to those who live now; not just to those who will be descended from me, but to all those who dwell on this planet now and in the future."

It is our sacred trust and it is reaffirmed for us every time we look into the eyes of a newborn child.

It is a trust born of life itself.

I Call Myself Earth Girl, my first novel, is available in bookstores, online retailers, as an ebook in all formats.

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I Knew the Boston Marathon

The standard advice to writers is to write about what you know. I know the Boston Marathon.

Maybe I should say I knew it. Although, my memories from 46 years of the Marathon remain the same, the emotional impact of these memories is forever changed.

The marathon has been something amazing and special to me since the first time I saw it in 1967. I was a freshman at Boston College, up from my home state of Maryland. I had never even heard of it. But I loved watching it and I loved its history, going all the way back to 1897.

For so many New Englanders, the Boston Marathon was more than sport. It was a rite of spring; a cherished family day; a chance to stand with people you did not know and cheer on other people you did not know; to offer paper cups of water and sliced oranges as the runners passed by. It was a feel-good day.

Rain or shine, too cold or too hot, the runners came and so did the spectators. Every year I watched with tears as front runners sprinted by and those at the back of the pack struggled by. The crowds always cheered for both - awe in their voices for those in the lead and sincere words of encouragement for those in the back.

I always felt like the Boston Marathon was an example of people at their best. Their real best - not just their peak of physical performance - their best because it was, in many ways, about collaboration as much as competition; about striving as much as succeeding; about cheering on with appreciation as much as being cheered for; about celebrating the last as well as the first.

It was about the spectators as much as the runners.  Running Boston just wouldn't be the same without the crowds and traditions. It was truly the most interactive of sporting events and many families built traditions around this special iconic Boston event.

It was about people coming together from all over the world to participate, and in a funny way, it was about people from the suburbs coming together with Bostonians to celebrate our "Bostonness."

Bostonians, for the most part, love Boston - its history, its crazy traffic patterns, its accent, its sports teams and its marathon.  To us, "the Marathon."  When we heard someone talk about "running Boston" it held a special meaning for us.

So how has it changed? What does it mean now?

It means even more than it did before.  Until 2:51 on Monday afternoon, it represented a happy celebration of spring and sport, a chance for people to be at their best. Now it will always represent people at their worst, as well.

But here is what we can't forget. Whether there was one bomber or a dozen or even a hundred, there were more heroes than bombers. People rushed in to help. Others showed up at area hospitals to donate blood. Others opened their homes to those who couldn't get back into their hotels. People across the country are collecting money to help victims in whatever way possible.

None of this diminishes the horror of what happened. None of it makes up for the senseless loss of lives and limbs. None of it can restore the innocence so many children lost on this day.

No, the harm -and it is immense - can not be extinguished.

But the spirit of the Boston Marathon can not be extinguished either.

If the bombers thought that fear would prevail,  they were wrong.

If they thought that hatred will overtake us, they were wrong.

If they thought that we will be convinced that the evil in the world is stronger than the good, they were wrong.

We can show them that they are wrong, and we must.

So from now on, be a little more loving to everyone, a little less fearful about everything, and embrace all that is good in the world. Hold tight to the good.  Never let it go.

Finally, come to Boston for next year's Marathon.                                                                   Run it.                                                                                                                                                Walk it.                                                                                                                                               Watch it.                                                                                                                                         Just come.

We need you here.