Dreaming of Dr. King

I once had a conversation at school with a first grade student. It was snack time, and, as she saw me approaching the eating area, the student called out to me:

“Mrs. McDavid, Mrs. McDavid!” Olivia’s hand was up and signaling for me to join her.

I walked over to her table and sat down. “What’s up?”

“Did you know that before, if we were at a school with all black people or a school with all white people, I couldn’t sit with you?”

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Think of the Butterfly

Written for a friend in despair


It is amazing to me,

a wondrous endeavor.

Think of the butterfly:

Its plain beginnings,

its ragged shell,

its captured wings.

Has it gone unheard?

The lilies and the sparrows know:

He cares with a cupped hand.

He stoops down with a lift

as sure as the first Day.

He was, He is,

He will.

And so,

my love,

live your struggle while fixed to Him,

a holy silk.

And emerge,

this time,

ready

to fly.

Matthew 6:25-34