We are the meek. The quiet. We are the ones who put our bodies and our spirits out there to meet with those persons whom others would choose to forget. We peer closely enough to see that we are they and they are we.
We listen, our hearts weeping, to the tales of trauma: of children witnessing or experiencing things that words fail to communicate. Those children stand in front of us, sometimes in the form of elderly adults, and sometimes with new traumas that continue into the present.
We use our most powerful tool daily: we are human and they are human. We open our soul to connect with part of their soul, and perhaps some strength can be shared through a bond of trust.
We are the custodians of caring, the professional athletes of empathy, and in Parry’s words, yes we are the janitors of God! We roll up our sleeves, literally and metaphorically, and show up each day to do the work that needs to be done.
We wish each day, that this work would no longer need to be done. We ask not only, “What have you survived?” We ask, “Who do you want to be?” And, “As whom do you want to be seen?” We listen, and then integrate this into how we see and treat people, as we ask, “Who do you wish to become?”