"Yes," the Monk answered. "I was afraid I would stop feeling compassion for my torturers."
Peace, wherever, whenever and however we can welcome it into our hearts and our world, should never become a memory.
November 18, 2010
It was past the world's bedtime. No one was really there.
Still, the remaining countries who had waited days to speak stepped up to the podium, and in the formal shoes of a tired man or the polite heels of a fatigued woman, addressed the empty seats.
World, they said, let's give peace a chance our country is hurting your country is hurting we are all hurting there is no need for this...
If the seats could have nodded they would have and they would have made sure something was done to make it better. But instead, each word bounced and banged against walls and ceilings.
We, the scribes, though, we made sure the words didn't shatter against hard surfaces.
We, the scribes, noted stressed stated said and urged.
We, the scribes, made sure even in empty spaces peace was recorded and thus given a chance.
