is found in the purchased bottles in my garage, and coming out of my kitchen tap, and running through the drinking fountain at school. With an overabundance of cholera-free water all around, I count my blessings. And am thankful for a house in which to retreat from rain and wind, and in which to shower, and wash hands, and cook foods, and keep said food safely frozen or refrigerated until needed. And that I have food, at all.
Just a short plane ride away, mamas fear for their children's lives from beneath flapping, blowing, wet tarps. With empty stomachs. And countless days, months, years ahead without promise, yet, of anything better.
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