How Should We Combat Hatred? – Offering A Prayer Of Peace

This is not a post I usually write – frankly, this is not a post I want to write, because I do not want to talk
about hatred, negativity and politics in this blog.
But after I just heard the news that the Mother of my daughter’s boyfriend was attacked by someone using racial slurs,
and Donald Trump rhetoric, I had to speak out.
You see, we are a family of mixed decent. I am German, my husband is a mix of Irish, Native American, and Jewish decent, and my daughter is dating a wonderful,young hard-working Mexican-American man. His mother, equally hard working, and an upstanding citizen of this country was attacked by a white guy, this afternoon, telling her that all Mexicans should leave and that he is going to end them all. He continued to spew words about Donald Trump, repeated those hateful viewpoints, that have been brought into our homes via television over the last few months.
Thankfully she is okay, but it could have ended so much different. No one should have to experience this kind of behavior,
may it be because of their skin color, country of origin, gender or religion. It makes me angry – and I really do not try
to get angry – but it also makes me sad, that we now live in a space where people believe that it is okay to act this way.
This behavior of racism must stop now, may it be against African-Americans, Latin-Americans, or Native Americans, or anyone else.

I am asking you to offer a prayer for peace, no matter which religion you practice.

As a Pagan, I offer the following prayer:

“O Gracious Mother and Merciful Father,
We pray that you help the leaders and people of this world to have compassion in their hearts,
That you give them the wisdom to end the suffering caused by wars and hatred,
And the understanding that only through peace will we truly be happy;
We humbly ask you to guard and protect all of our brothers and sisters, no matter what skin color, origin, religion or gender.
And give comfort to the loved ones, who have lost family members due to these types of injustice.
May you lead us from death to live,
From falsehood to truth,
Lead us from despair to hope,
From fear to trust,
Lead us from hate to love,
From war to peace,
Let peace fill our hearts, our world, our Universe;
Let our words be spoken in truth,
And our hearts show only love.”

So Mote It Be

Loosely based on a prayer found in “The Wicca Life”

Maybe you can find peace in your heart, and share a moment in prayer with me.

Thank you

I am grateful that she is okay.
I am grateful that none of her children were with her
I am grateful that despite this, she and her family are not answering with hatred
I am grateful that I know that there are good people in this world, standing up for what is right.
I am grateful for you.

Claudia

Blog Hops:

Thankful Thursdays

No Rules Weekend Blog Party

Rose – A Flash Fiction

 

“Well, to be honest, I threw it away.”
“You did what?”
“It was just sitting there, all torn up, and old-looking. Who keeps stuff like that?”
“I do, you….” She bit her check to keep herself from throwing every cuss word she could muster.
“Never mind. How long ago was that?”
“Maybe ten minutes.”
“No, don’t tell me that was right before the garbage truck came?”
“Of course it was, silly. That was the whole point of me rushing to take out the garbage. I don’t want this stuff to fill up the bin over the next three days.”
“You are just too efficient.” She grimaced, as she knew that the sarcasm would be completely lost on her assistant. As expected he trotted off, proud of his accomplishments and efficiency.
He was new, he was good, and he was overly productive. He wanted to please her, and showed it by cleaning her desk more frequently than it ever had been over the last 5 years she had been working from home. Not that this was a bad thing, but it also was not the first time, she had to rescue something that he did not consider as usable anymore.
Bell treasured trinkets from the past, little items that reminded her of her Grandma, of their rose garden, and of the long summer afternoons spent together sharing stories, drinking tea and coffee, while savoring homemade cookies and cakes. Grandma Rose, as everyone had called her, was a lover of stories, always weaving a newly crafted web of intrigue, love and adventure, pulling all of her listeners into her web with an ease, Bell now tried to capture, as she wrote her own stories. Because of her, Bell had fallen in love with words. Because of her, she had become an Author. With enough work on her plate, that warranted, no, demanded a personal assistant.
Who drove her mad.
That envelope had been not just any old, torn envelope. It contained a picture of her, her mother, and her Grandmother, in their rose garden, a photograph that had seen better days. Bell had been contemplating of having it restored, and a copy made for her parents.
She shook her head, trying hard not to get emotional. After all, vivid memories of beautiful times were burned into her heart, and no photo or the loss of it, could be more meaningful than that. Still. This one was special.
Walking through the french doors upon the patio, toward the back entrance, she squinted at a small, rectangle something caught in the thick rose-bush, that flanked the small path toward the small gate. It moved fiercely in the wind, but the rose-bush had a strong hold upon the item, its thorns grabbing it, not unlike human hands holding on to price possession.
Sighing in relief, Bell grabbed for the envelope, which released with ease and gentleness into her hands.
A smile deepening on her face she whispered softly. “Thanks Grandma.”

Copyright Claudia H. Blanton 2014

This story was loosely inspired by today’s Daily Prompt.