Abandoned

I've always been drawn to remnants of places sitting in silence along country roads. As I drive by those haunting structures, I wonder who lived there. I wonder why they left. I wonder how they walked away. Each one of those abandoned places has a story. Just like we do. Most of us have been abandoned in one way or another at some point in our lives by someone we loved, by a boss, a friend, a community.

My first realization of abandonment came when my aunt cared for a foster child-a little baby. I might have been twelve at the time. I never knew babies were abandoned. It was a rude awakening. That was followed by my sister finding a puppy alone, cold and shaking and hungry in my grandfather's old barn shed. I wondered how someone could do such a thing to a puppy. Since becoming the mother of a mentally ill son, I've learned even more about the harsh reality of abandonment by so many who either fear such an illness or are embarrassed knowing someone with such an illness. Whatever the reason, they keep their distance from someone dealing with a brain disease.

When you think about it, all it would take to salvage many of those abandoned structures is some tender loving care, along with some paint and nails, new windows and new roofs. 

That rings true for people as well. If we were to reach out to each other in understanding, the world would be a better place. The world would feel better about itself. No paint needed. No windows or roofs. Just kindness and acceptance and an abundance of understanding.