The sky on Tuesday was clear blue perfection. A Tuesday, even—and so I thought, of course, about that impossibly blue sky 11 years earlier when our sense of what we could trust fell out from under us. I thought about how unable I was to know what I could say about the world to my oldest son, then starting kindergarten.
I remember that he guessed the planes hit the big buildings by accident. I really knew of nothing more to do than nod.
Fast forward to Tuesday: surrounded by people eating pies and raising money to double the food stamps’ benefits at the Tuesday farmers’ Market and all I could think was you can build your own faith back bite by sweet bite in a community where people help each other. You can smile as you do it. That’s really how change works; that’s how you find hope—and it’s beautiful.
Best Pie as judged by our Mayor
Mim’s the assistant manager at Tuesday Market, pie contest runner too
Deryn and her mom’s most beautiful pie
Emily, Mickey, Pie
Wiley has a snack
My friend Millie was more interested in me than the Mayor’s announcement
