October 24, 2016


When I was a young girl and a stray cat came into our yard, my mother never said "Love that cat." She didn't need to. The moment I saw a helpless, hungry, thirsty, abandoned life, my heart melted. I wanted to save it, feed it, hug it, love it. And love was easy, because my walk to greet the cat was uninterrupted by adult words or actions, telling me how I should feel and whether or not I should suppress my feelings. I was a little mom in a way, wanting to nurture the necessary emotion that was naturally inside me (maybe because I somehow knew I'd need more of it in an unkind world where love sometimes takes the backseat and hate is the driver. Love is health, I learned over the years. It is also free and infectious. It flows naturally like a river through an unguarded heart. And no matter how much I have of it, I will always want more. Because there's always room for more love.

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