I, the Mother.

I addressed the teacher on an issue that arose in class. Without getting into it, it was an incident which upset my child. It was an incident I was not happy with.

The teacher. Sigh. The teacher. She's young. She's free. She said I shouldn't worry.

I. Shouldn't. Worry.

Shouldn't worry?

What kind of a mother would I be if I didn't worry? Something happened that made my daughter feel uncomfortable. When I heard about it, I felt uncomfortable too. Shouldn't worry? I don't think so!

I do worry. Every day of my life I worry. These two precious people who were born of me are deserving of at least that. They passed through me, a broken chalice, a humble vessel. What miracles they are to shine so brightly! And I do. Worry.

I worry that the world will taint them. That they will be scarred by the ugly things. I fear that the beauty they see in everything will be stained by hurtful, hideous happenings. I am perturbed that, all too soon they will learn the truth of the world. I am worried that they will be hurt. That they will fall and shatter into a million beautiful pieces. I worry that when they pick the pieces up, some will be lost forever. That they will never be whole again. How I wish they could be happy forever. Beautiful forever. Complete forever.

Perhaps I wish for the things I lost, a vicarious attempt at maintaining the innocence. The reality is that these two miraculous creatures, too good for this world, are right here. Right now. They live and breathe in the little spaces of safety I manage to create for them. And sometimes, they breathe their enchanting air into spaces that are wild, and evil, and dangerous. And when they do, I hold my own breath. As badly as I want to protect them from this ravaging planet, I know, deep down, that the world needs these precious jewels.

And if they do fall and shatter, I know I will be there to pick them up and help them find each glimmering splinter to piece back together. So help me. And while their innocent beauty may be marred, they will become more beautiful than before. Because: Blessed are the cracked, for they let in the most light.