In amongst this suffering, I am reminded of the tenderness of spring. On the cusp of winter, seedlings make their journey through the soil, beckoned by the warmth of the sun. Do they feel fear? Do they feel the rattling of the earth as bombs falls? Do they question whether it is safe to rise into this unknown world? I like to think they see hope. Hope for a future that’s possible. Where we care for one another, and rejoice in each other’s interconnected lives.