I want my mom, a little boy cried out suddenly.Every voice fell silent. The boy had said what they were all feeling.Caine hopped down from the car and went to the boy. He knelt down and took the boy’s hands in his own. He asked the boy’s name and reintroduced himself. We all want our parents back, he said gently, but loudly enough to be overheard clearly by those nearest. We all want that. And I believe that will happen. I believe we will see all our moms and dads and older brothers and sisters and even our teachers again. I believe that. Do you believe it, too?Yes. The little boy sobbed.Caine wrapped him in a hug and said, Be strong. Be your mommy’s strong little boy.He’s good, Astrid said. He’s beyond good.Then Caine stood up. People had formed a circle around him, close but respectful. We all have to be strong. We all have to get through this. If we work together to choose good leaders and do the right thing, we will make it.The entire crowd of kids seemed to stand a little taller. There were determined looks on faces that had been weary and frightened.Sam was mesmerized by the performance. In just a few minutes’ time, Caine had infused hope into a very frightened, dispirited bunch of kids.Astrid seemed mesmerized too, though Sam thought he detected the cool glint of skepticism in her eyes.Sam was skeptical himself. He distrusted rehearsed displays. He distrusted charm. But it was hard not to think that Caine was at least trying to reach out to the Perdido Beach kids. It was hard not to believe in him, at least a little. And if Caine really did have a plan, wouldn’t that be a good thing? No one else seemed to have a clue.
Michael Grant
Fear of the Dark I’ve always been prone to worry and anxiety, but after I became a mother, negotiating joy, gratitude and scarcity felt like a full-time job. For years, my fear of something terrible happening to my children actually prevented me from fully embracing joy and gratitude. Every time I came too close to softening into sheer joyfulness about my children and how much I love them, I’d picture something terrible happening; I’d picture losing everything in a flash. At first I thought I was crazy. Was I the only person in the world who did this? As my therapist and I started working on it, I realized that my too good to be true was totally related to fear, scarcity and vulnerability. Knowing that those are pretty universal emotions, I gathered up the courage to talk about my experiences with a group of five hundred parents who had come to one of my parenting lectures. I gave an example of standing over my daughter watching her sleep, feeling totally engulfed in gratitude, then being ripped out of that joy and gratitude by images of something bad happening to her. You could have heard a pin drop. I thought, Oh, God. I’m crazy and now they’re all sitting there like, She’s a nut. How do we get out of here? Then all of the sudden I heard the sound of a woman toward the back starting to cry. Not sniffle cry, but sob cry. That sound was followed by someone from the front shouting out, Oh my God! Why do we do that? What does it mean? The auditorium erupted in some kind of crazy parent revival. As I had suspected, I was not alone.'re Supposed to Be and Embrace Who You Are
Brené Brown