When you plant a tree, you sow the thoughts of leafy morns and lovely afternoons. You plant the thoughts of beauty growing beneath the countless suns and moons...
“As quickly as they arrived, they were gone.
In this vicious assault just after dawn,
Our lost innocents, so wickedly killed,
Left us the voids that could never be filled.”
Count your blessings instead of your crosses. Count your gains instead of your losses. Count your joys instead of your woes. Count your friends instead of your foes.
My vote is my privilege, my duty, my right. I need not be a man, or wealthy, or white. I just need to think and show up in November. It was not always this way. I vote. I remember.