Holding A Single Candle

Alone, yet connected to so many

I walked to the end of my tiny street with my candle, tears beginning to flow.

I had been following the horror of another person killed by Border Patrol, Alex Pretti, only weeks after the killing of Renee Good by ICE. 

I cannot absorb the pain at times. I cannot imagine what their families are going through. I feel such deep sorrow and outrage and, at times, bewilderment. How did we get here?

I watched the news in horror all day covering the death of Alex, as I had watched about Renee. A friend sent me a message that there was going to be a time that evening, 7 pm local time wherever you were, when people were invited to be outside, on corners, on their street, holding lighted candles in a ritual of remembrance.

So, I got my candle and walked down the hill of our tiny street. I did not see anyone else around, and thought that maybe others had organized themselves to be together in a more main location. Still, there I was with my candle and matches. 

I took a deep breath and lit the candle, placing it on top of our row of mailboxes as I stood there. Cars drove by, some looked. It was a quiet evening. I thought about Alex, an ICU nurse. I’m retired now, but in my career as a social worker, I have worked with a lot of nurses and have such respect for all that they do and the care that they provide. 

Here was an ICU nurse, shot down after trying to help someone else who had been shoved down. I watched the different versions of the videos that people had taken and saw what happened. Thank God for videos. I am enraged at the government trying to spin the story as they are, when we can see with our own eyes what happened. Of course there should be a full investigation by all, including the local authorities. 

Standing there with my solitary candle, I could feel the connection to others who were doing the same, even if I could not see them right then. I felt my heart ache for this young man and his heart to protest and to help others. I could feel the still fresh pain from the killing of Renee Good. I could feel a part of all of us that are outraged and sometimes don’t even know where to put our anger. There was a video of a 70-year-old gentleman who was in agony and enraged at what he had seen, at what happened. I know that many of us understood and felt that inconsolable pain.

I see many of my peers, elders, at protests. We have seen much in our lives, have been involved in other protests perhaps, and are feeling the trauma that we are now in. We are out there, using our voices, holding up our signs, holding our candles. 

After a little while, my neighbor, who had wondered who was hanging out by the mailboxes, came down to stand by me. We talked about what had happened, about our pain and outrage, about the loss, the death, the crumbling of our democracy. We hugged each other and honored the memory of Alex, as well as Renee. 

I walked back up to my home after a bit. I felt as if it had been important to my soul for me to to be out there with my solitary candle, to take action, to bear witness to the pain, to express it so that others could see and also remember and feel it. 

As an elder, sometimes it is easy for me to discount that my actions can make any difference. What can I do, as a 72 year old woman? What difference will it make? Who cares if I light my tiny candle alone?

It made a difference to my soul. It made a difference to my heart. And it motivated me to see what else I can be involved in, in addition to attending protests, writing post cards, contributing financially where I can. 

I went to bed, sobered, deep in thought and feeling. Around midnight I woke up and felt compelled to open my back door and step outside. At that moment a strong breeze swept through me, which is unusual around my area, as the wind usually dies down at dusk. It stopped as soon as it came, but it felt as if it went right through me. I felt the spirit of all that is going on, felt the pain of those we have lost already in this crisis, of all those that we don’t hear about who have been “disappeared” (what an interesting term that has become common these days), of all the suffering being inflicted, the separations, the young children, the people just trying to make a life for their families, all of us Americans who they are trying to turn against each other. 

I have written before about walking in the redwoods and sometimes hearing the rustling of the leaves and feeling as if I am hearing the whispering of the Voice of God. Maybe God was speaking again, through the wind, through the outrage of so many, through the compassion and love that we can still see and feel in the crowds that hold each other and sing and chant together, in the light of a tiny candle multiplied even if we do not see it at the moment. We are many, and we have more power than we know. We are all Americans and we cannot let them divide us against each other. We all want the best for our families and for our beloved country, a country that has stood for so much, imperfectly for sure, but at least had been trying to move in the direction of creating a better world for all. 

Let’s use our voices, make our signs, call who we can, come together so that we can see how many of us there are, and light our candles to begin to burn away this hatred and evil.