(Sometimes it’s tough to feel at home in your own city. Which is why I’ve given myself a challenge: each day, for forty days, I’m going to find *one* thing I love about this place. And then I’m going to tell you about it. If you want to follow my journey, start here. Today is Day Twenty-Six.)
Today, I sat in the warm yellow light at Burger in the Square, expecting a cheeseburger and fries. While I waited for my food, I scribbled this prayer:
If the frost must come, and the flowers must fade, and the birds and the locusts fall silent…
then grant me one request:
a mountain sky full of stars.
And if I cannot have stars, then grant me mountain air full of snow-scent, behind clouds.
And if I cannot have this, then let me fill the silence with the voices of those I love, and those I am only just beginning to love — even those I am just meeting now.
And if I can have none of these things, then grant me the hope of them —
for hope is not sustenance, but hunger,
and if I am hungry enough, I may have the courage to take what I need