During the break in a staff meeting today, people shared there stories and feelings about the inauguration. One staff member who was in DC talked about walking past an African American woman who sat on a bench with her elementary school-aged son, telling him the story of America; “and so they put people in chains, loaded them on boats, and brought them here….”
Others on staff shared there observations. Several shed tears as we discussed the historic nature of the day. I thought for a about contributing my own observation, but stopped.
For me, this moment and its miracle is not that I am around to see it — but my 4 year old son is. For him to come home yesterday and tell me he knows the name of the President is something that almost didn’t happen.
I blinked. I breathed. I envisioned sharing this observation, the group descending into awkward silence — and opted to keep it to myself. Another day of quiet miracles, totally lost on most.