And yet- I wonder each time how she came to be this way. Surely, to have once made the choice to have begun a career helping others must mean that there is a heart that beats for others somewhere in that cold barrel chest of hers.
So, each time, I find myself imagining the life that led her here. To this place where she can no longer rustle up kindness and compassion and is stuck in a self-imposed jail of anger. How awful these circumstances must have been. How awful it must be to now live a life of sarcastic frustration with all who come into her bubble of hate.
I wish that I had the words, the actions to make her teeny tiny Grinch heart grow. But, I do not. However, I can continue to have compassion for this curmudgeon.
I will fight to keep that smile on my face.
I will be kind, even when she is not.
I will leave her cold office a little warmer than it was before I entered.
Because it must be dreadfully awful to live in that place of hate. It must be frigid and lonely and sad.
Love on, Warriors.