Something (not) to be Taken for Granted

After hearing the news of #NZmosqueshooting yesterday, I remembered one sentence from J.K. Rowling’s book, “They can refuse to know.”

People can refuse to know, refuse to care, but horrible things happen in the world. Since yesterday’s news I find myself watching documentary videos of child abuse and all things bad, feel bad about it, feel bad about myself.

The least thing, we can spread love, not hate, so that people with hatred confused about themselves. That’s so random, I know. It’s just. Yesterday, I found myself pray after sholat. I barely do that these past weeks, but the incident yesterday felt close. Death feel close. Real.
I heard from CNN that the shooter also shot people who were already on the ground bleeding, making sure they end up dead. Just how much hatred they have?

And today, my toddler nephew, Zaydan, kissed me in the cheeks, and then forehead. Only so I would make his formula milk, but somehow those simple things make me feel grateful. Something that I usually just take for granted.