I don’t know you because you are new, but I wanted to tell you I saw you.
You are beautiful. And I mean really beautiful.
You may not feel that way because of that reflective vest you have to wear or the layers upon layers of clothes you piled on because you probably started working before 6 a.m. this morning when it was 17 degrees.
You probably had to leave your own kids in what felt like the middle of the night so you could be with mine this morning. I saw you smile at them through tired eyes. For this I am grateful.
What I want you to know is your purpose goes far beyond what you might think it is.
Your presence this morning calmed my heart in ways you won’t know. I’m more than sure I’m not the only one.
This is because we are a family who lived through Newtown. And since that day, putting a child on the bus always brings an afterthought, a pause where you don’t breathe for just a moment, because of what you will always feel and never forget.
Seeing your face today, smiling through tired eyes, through your own sacrifice, reminded me there is always good, always love, always hope—if our eyes are open to it. And that within those walls there is a safety that cannot be measured nor contained.
So my prayer for you is that you know your worth, you know your value, and you know the power you have to change a life today even if it’s just this one mama’s.
Previously published on the author’s Facebook page