Happy Tuesday! I was finishing up a project over the weekend so I’m a day late at my window.

I’m happy to have another project on its way and to be back here.

No, it’s not Book Review Monday! though The Night Gardener by the Fan Brothers is a great children’s book. It has my Grands’ seal of approval and after the library of dinosaur books, this is a favorite. I feel like I’ve written about this one before … The Night Gardener is mostly a picture book with beautifully detailed pencil sketches. The story opens on Grimloch Lane and the name pretty well describes the look of the village and its buildings–more derelict than desirable–and the drawings dark and colorless. Then a stranger arrives at midnight and transforms a tree into a large topiary owl. It draws the attention of one little boy, William, in particular. He watches and at midnight the following night, the stranger appears again. This time transforming another tree into a cat. Each evening the man slips into the village and snips and trims until the park along Grimloch Lane becomes the home to a topiary zoo with dragons, birds, and other wonderful creatures.

Of course, along with the parade of animals, the village also transforms as residents begin to paint their homes, fix their roofs, and clean up the litter. With each turn of the page, the colors brighten and by the end of the book there’s a full rainbow of colors in the pencil drawings.

I thought of this book after two encounters this weekend. Friday evening Hubby and I attended our parish International Festival. I know I’ve mentioned this before. Our parish is multicultural and every year we celebrate that diversity with a two-day festival with authentic foods from around the globe and entertainment representing our different cultures and countries. While Hubby was helping set up tents Friday morning, two different cars pulled up and asked if the event was open to anyone. Yes! The whole point of the festival is to celebrate and welcome each other.

Against this joyful and colorful backdrop, I ran into two long-time friends who aren’t members of the parish. After smiles, hellos and hugs, the man’s demeanor immediately changed. “Wasn’t that absolutely tragic what happened to Charlie Kirk?!” I could feel his instant anger and disbelief. Though he and I are on extreme ends of the political spectrum, I still wasn’t expecting the question/statement. My non-verbal response left open the few seconds he needed to ask if I’d seen Kirk’s widow’s message. I was told by his wife I needed to and ‘… if it doesn’t just make you break down and cry then you don’t have a heart.’ I know she was using the universal ‘you’ but still … As my friends walked away the husband was shaking his head, ‘We’re living in a sick world.’

All I could think of in that moment was the irony of literally standing in the middle of this celebration of diversity and welcome, with music and tantalizing aromas filling the air on a perfectly lovely evening weather-wise, and my friends were focused on the hate and anger that’s in the news.

Then on Sunday my dear friend and poet Julie read her poem about hope blooming in the darkness.

And so, I thought of this book and the art and work of transformation. The old gardener did his work one tree at a time, never expecting or needing validation or reward. It was pure grace. And it transformed a village. Sure, it’s only a children’s story but …

I imagine many of us have participated in a candle lighting service where we enter in darkness and a single candle is lit and even that single flame makes a difference. The light is passed from one candle to another until the space is fully lit. The symbolism and emotion are never lost on me no matter how often I’m part of this ritual. The thing is, the transformation from darkness to light can’t happen if we don’t participate and share our little flame.  

I don’t see the world as sick or dark. I’m not naïve or blind to what’s in the news. I live just across the state line from where Ukrainian refugee Iryna Zarutska was murdered on a light rail. I’ve ridden that train often myself. So, we ‘locals’ heard about her attack before it became national news juxtaposed with the murder of Charlie Kirk. It saddens me that hate, anger, disillusion, and fear drive people to commit the acts of violence they do, whether that violence is against someone expressing their beliefs, a member of congress, a woman riding a train, or a school full of innocent children. No single life is more precious than another’s.

But while saddened, I’m more emboldened by the transforming power of love, and the belief our daily kindnesses and expressions of love–no matter how big or small–make a difference. The belief that bringing art into the world is transforming. The belief that what we see and seek is often what we find. So, I hope you’ll understand if I don’t step away from the joy and beauty of our world to join in the frenzy and fear some are whipping up. Because I have gardening to do.

I hope you have a great rest of the week. Be kind to each other and to yourselves. I’ll be back at my window on Monday!