I long for the world I once knew, a world where a woman could talk to a man without worry, a world where Amish children could safely attend school, a world where scarce news meant networks filled slack days with recipes and gardening tips.Īt times, the state of our world overwhelms me. I grieve the loss of that innocence and trust.

Twenty-five years ago, I would not have panicked and wound up my windows before he could part his lips to ask for directions. A man pulled in beside me and opened his door. Yesterday, I decided to write in my car, so I parked in a vacant lot. It’s still there-isn’t it?-behind that lead blanket of bad? With so much negativity in the world, it can be hard to see the good. I find a discussion so heated I begin to think about grilling a burger on my laptop. Everyone seems to be arguing these days, even old friends. I tune them out and check my Facebook page, where more conflict awaits me. The presidential candidates are talking now. She’s been down this road before, having not only lived through 9/11, but also Pearl Harbor and several wars. The host announces, “We’re learning more about the shooter in the worst mass shooting in US history.” All faces in the room turn upward, their mouths drawn into tight lines, their eyes betraying their disbelief and sorrow. A TV high on the wall blasts a morning news show. Car salesmen come and go, bringing with them jangling keys and fluttering paperwork.

As I write this, I’m seated with others in a waiting room while my car undergoes inspection.

Scattered Seeds by Julie Doherty