What Will You Carry?

 Phyllis Cole-Dai

As I trudged the railroad tracks near camp, which I do every day, I often think of the refugees who at that very moment are doing the same, by the thousands; a long, long human line, following the tracks to the cold of the mountains, mile after mile after mile, not knowing whether they're actually headed towards safety. I can feel the tracks wearing down their slow feet. I can feel their bundles and bags growing heavier by the step. I wonder what possessions they'd  chosen to take with them on their long march into the unknown (if in fact they had time to choose). I also wonder how many of those things they'll end up abandoning out of sheer exhaustion, or the need to carry a child.

What would you choose to take with you if you had to leave behind the life you've always lived - if all you could take with you was what you could carry? Perhaps what is truly ours, to keep and to give, can't be carried by the hands.

Practicing Presence: Insights from the Streets