This is our home. Beautiful, isn’t it? For the past year and a half, we’ve been apprehensively proud to call Chicago home. We are proud to be residents of a bustling and diverse city that always has something exciting in which to participate. However, it’s ludicrous to be unabashedly proud to be Chicagoans when 513 people lost their lives to violence in 2012. 513 gifts left unopened. And in the first month of this year, 42 homicides were committed. Another 42 gifts unavailable for our world to open. Then name of one of those gifts has been echoed across our nation and even world. Hadiya – a Swahili name meaning a gift. The following is a poem written in her honor I found on a memorial page. Unfortunately, home includes far too many memorial pages and beautiful poems written for those gone far too soon.
by T. Hall
there was once a graceful flower…
she soulfully danced in her garden,
as the blazing orange hello crept magnificently into Chicago skies,
there was once a beautiful flower.
she swayed splendidly in the winds…
the feet of passersby always halted by her imminence…
she was special.
there was once a brilliant flower…
who taught lessons of living out bold…
and capturing your dreams.
the other flowers listened intently…
i hear that flower through bitter, blustery, January, winds
i hear that flower in the softness of powdery, February, snowfalls
we hear you…
~burst forth passionately into the horizon,
the pageantry of GOD’s elysian courts await its newest
How would you describe your home?