Multiply this by a thousand and you see the untold stories of local heroes...
Aunt Peggy on local heroes here: LINK
It is hard to be a parent at any time, but to be a parent in a life-or-death crisis is brutal. It is hard to give children what they need when you're overwhelmed yourself. It's hard, when you're afraid, to talk to children gently and listen to them, really hear them, so you can figure out what they're really telling you when they ask a surprising or seemingly illogical question. It takes patience not to work out your frustration or terror or pessimism on them, but to show instead forbearance, or frankly fake it if you have to. And to show optimism and faith--"We'll be OK, don't you worry"-- because optimism and faith can become a habit, they are communicable, and the habit of optimism and faith allows children to trust life, to enter it steadily and have confidence in it.
It is exhausting being a parent under trying circumstances. It is probably the hardest thing in the world. But on such things nations rise and fall, endure or falter.
And no one says thank you, or rather no one has videotape of your heroism and replays it in a loop. But for parents in the Superdome and Astrodome, for parents living with children in somebody's spare room, for parents in a motel room crammed with three generations of a family, from the old and frightened to the young and colicky--for those who lost everything and yet are still functioning as parents--well, please consider this a small salute from far away. A small attempt to recognize, and honor. You're saving a country, too.
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