“… I needed to grieve. I thought of the Bronx mother who raced to
get a basin of water to scrub her murdered son’s blood off the street
before the cars and buses could desecrate what to her was holy. She
went out alone and held off cars until she was finished. I needed to
stop the busy traffic that barrels through each day, stand vigil,
pause, and remember. Grieving was a way to say that this blood
mattered, the blood that had flooded my heart.”
From: Breathing Space: A Spiritual Journey in the South Bronx,
Author: Heidi Neumark
<www.beacon.org/productdetails.cfm?PC=1665>