By Magdalena Meyers, Age 11

It is a wet and cold Sunday. I am living in the pandemic, so my house is suddenly turned into a sanctuary like the ones we build, in this broken world, of lost magic, and purpose. My friends are not far away in terms of distance. But to me, it’s like they all changed schools and lives, leaving each other and ourselves out of it. Yet we still laugh together and support one another like a vine to a fence, which really helps ease the pain.

I cry in my colorful, happy, cozy and tucked away bedroom of goodness, surrounded by a quiet of the changing universe of nothingness, of questions in my head still unanswered. The worries and repeats keep floating somewhere in there. What will our world and economy be soon? How will people keep getting goods, like food and medicine? How will the doctors, nurses and healthcare workers stay safe, healthy and cared for? How will they get masks and gloves to protect themselves as they work to save everyone else who needs urgent treatment and attention?

I am a climate justice activist and educator (as a student with a small but alive learning difficulty.) Many other brave and powerful young people are stepping up as well for wealthy adults in power to stop killing our future and earth! We are suddenly inside like everyone should be doing now, and that’s really different from being in marches and rallies. Going down the blocks of San Francisco and Sacramento with grace and a destination, the center hall of change. Tons of people walking and screaming with cupped hands and some even with megaphones. We carry on with tired feet and legs as we carry banners and signs with bold imagery and words. We sing songs of hope loudly so the world hears our urgent call! Your throat should be tired and hurting afterwards—if you screamed well and proudly!

I ponder and dream out the window, at the hummingbird and her shiny small but mighty wings. She holds herself up strongly even when the wind is trying to throw her down and out. She flutters to the top, and stays there, as long as she needs and wants to. She is truly resilient. She is a transporter for the mini people. I have Irish ancestry so mini people are fairies to us. They teach us many things of nature and her jokes!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: