This week I've just been overwhelmed by the weight and beauty and disconnectedness of this mass of souls with whom I'm living here. I want to love them as I ought.
Sometimes love is:
A full pot of strong coffee.
Making paper snowflakes.
Post-it notes on a window.
Sharing a secret study place with a friend.
Prayer 3 minutes before you go up to speak.
A pinky swear.
Your favorite photographs.
An oversized coloring book.
Breakfast at 2 in the morning.
Asking "You okay?" when you know they're probably not.
Cereal.
Be kinder than necessary.
For everyone you meet is fighting some kind of battle.
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