My mother taught me what having faith really meant. Not just a faith in God but faith that things will be alright.
I still remember cuddling up on my parents’ bed with her reading Diary of a Young Girl. I remember getting to the line where Anne says something like, “Despite everything, I still believe people are good at heart.”
Actually, what she really says is more beautiful than my paraphrase: “It’s a wonder I haven’t abandoned all my ideals, they seem so absurd and impractical. Yet I cling to them because I still believe, in spite of everything, that people are truly good at heart.”
I just couldn’t fathom being so terrified, going through that sort of torment, and still believing that the people who did it to you still had the capacity for compassion. It makes all the liberal arts students with raised noses explicating dystopian novels seem so naive–like they’re missing the point. Because what we’ve experienced will never match what Anne did, and she was still willing to have faith in the world.
Anne Frank may have not had a happy ending, but she knew that what was happening was much bigger than her.
Faith is believing that eventually things will be alright. Faith is letting go. My mother knew how to let go, and now it’s my turn.
Sometimes I think my mother did have a happy ending–just not the one we expected.
My new tattoo dedicated to my mother and my Faith. The song was her solo when she was still able to sing in church.