This story has been doing the rounds recently.  It has been attributed to a few people, so I don’t know the exact origins, but I just had to share it:

Sometimes, I just want it to stop.

Talk of COVID, looting, brutality.

I lose my way.

I become convinced that this “new normal” is real life.

Then I meet an 87-year-old who talks of living through polio, diphtheria, Vietnam protests and yet is still enchanted with life.

He seemed surprised when I said that 2020 must be especially challenging for him.

“No,” he said slowly, looking me straight in the eyes.  “I learned a long time ago to not see the world through the printed headlines, I see the world through the people around me.  I see the world with the realisation that we love big.  Therefore, I just choose to write my own headlines:

“Husband loves wife today.”

“Family drops everything to come to Grandma’s bedside.”

He patted my hand, “Old man makes new friend.”

His words collide with my worries, freeing them from the tether I had been holding tight.

They float away.

I am left with a renewed spirit and a new way to write my own headlines.