They say light comes out (and in) through cracked vessels. Maybe light comes out (and in) through the torn holes of our soul. And maybe sometimes we have to break a window to free our our soul.
Did I say that one of my son's friend's mother lives across the street from my mother, and on Mother's Day I wanted so badly to go knock on the door and ask if the friend could come out so I could hug him? He's built about like my son except a tiny bit thicker. Tonight, I saw him sitting on the porch and I went over to talk to him. I got a hug.
It was like a tiny spark of light in the darkness.
I am grateful for light in the dark.
(This is my response to the prompt for Week 6 of the 52 Photos Project.)