The Light That Refuses To Let Go

The morning light catches the flinch before you even make contact. A shadow crossing a small face when your hand moves to brush a cheek.

In that second, the mask you wore to work cracks open, and the shame floods in. You wonder if the damage is done, if the trust is broken beyond repair.

But the light does not recoil from the wound it did not cause. It sees the fear in the child's eyes and the grief in yours, and it calls both of you by name.

There is light within a person of light, and it lights up the whole world. That light is not extinguished by a flinch.

It is the very thing that will teach the body it is safe again. You came from the light, and to the light, you will return.

The hand that reaches out now carries the same origin as the child who pulls away. Today, do not let the shame convince you to stop reaching.

The light that made you is the same light that is healing them. Your origin is not the moment of fear.

Your origin is the love that refuses to let go.