Return

We sit in a circle on the ground, always in the same place and at the same time.
Some take off their shoes because it's easier to put down roots and feel at home that way. Someone has emptied the pantry to fill their neighbors' bellies, handing out cookies and candies until they're full. We forget that we have different skin colors, cultures, and religions.

We are Friends.
This is more important than a veil covering hair, colorful braids, almond-shaped eyes, or the countless differences that can be found in a circle that contains the world. The music starts, and as if by magic, we all connect our hearts, while a small jute bag is passed from hand to hand, held for a few seconds. Whose house, mine or yours?

We stop being alone and feel together.
With those next to us and perhaps someone above us up in the Sky. It's called restitution. Everyone seeks their promise, their dream, their wish, their hope to put inside when that bag passes through their hands. Someone sings that love exists and endures. Those with bigger thoughts disturbing their small hearts take a longer sigh than others, hold that bag for an infinite amount of time, and then pass it to the person next to them with a slightly lighter heart. Sometimes a tear falls too. It's a collection of pain that seeks healing, of love that wants to be given.

We always meet in the same place and at the same time.
We hold that bag and think about the promise.

Next to me is a boy or a girl.
They could be my new friend. There's something I thought was very difficult, but now, thanks to the help I've received, I can do it. There's a wound that seemed impossible to heal, it left a deep mark, but now it no longer burns.

We search our hearts for all the people who have loved us, to send that love back to someone else. We are not loved because we are good, but we are good because we are loved. What scared us before still scares us, but we know we are not alone. If we've done something bad, we can try not to do it again.

It's the pursuit of happiness.
We can be, do, and feel better. A bag passes through our hands, and the promise returns to our hearts. Always and forever, Friends forever.

Marco Grossetti
NP April 2024