The Present is a Present

My Baba’s parents

Look upon me from a restored photograph

From a time and place

So different from my own.

Yet I see myself (and so many of my family members)In their eyes, faces, and hands.

I somehow know these people–and love them:

These hardworking and noble ancestors

Who rose to the challenge of life,

Never gave up, and pushed

On and onward

Conquering despair–and all the “slings and arrows”of “outrageous fortune”

To remind me of my own place, time

And responsibility

To keep carrying on and onwardIn spite of uncertainty, fear, and sorrow

With a hopeful heart

And deep, abiding faith

In purpose, truth, and love.