Saving Ruby King

by Catherine Adel West

Rebellion even in its smallest forms can eventually birth great change. With change comes hope.

God’s grace shines in the smallest of things.

I want to show her I’m here, that I’ll do whatever I can because there’s nothing more hopeless than believing you’re alone.

There’s no ointment or prayer that can heal mean. No one to deliver me like the fairy tales in storybooks or churches. We look to others to save us and we must save ourselves.

This feeling. This warm deliciousness like melted butter on freshly baked bread—this is pride.

What are the frayed bindings holding these people together when ties should be cut?

We had our own friendships, and, in those friendships, we had our places, our pacts, our unspoken vows.

Our history can shape the future, but it doesn’t define it. Our present is anchored by those around us, those we allow in our lives and those who, by default or shared blood, walk a road with us. What we choose to do with that companionship is up to us. Past, present and future communing together, the joining of this holy trinity. Who humans are, and what the world is, live in these three things. Remember this, always.

“It’s a nice painting,” I say. “There’s some darkness, but it’s supposed to be there. It’s something we need. Makes you appreciate the light more.”