Jan 23, 2026
Media: pastel
Size: 14x11 in
I’ve been reading about the brave and kind people of Minnesota, out in the bitter cold helping their immigrant neighbors and I was reminded of lines from a poem by Amanda Gorman, The Hill We Climb. I want to share these lines (with my emphasis): We are striving to forge our union with purpose To compose a country committed to all cultures, colors, characters and conditions of man…. …we will raise this wounded world into a wondrous one. We will rise from the golden hills of the West. We will rise from the windswept Northeast where our forefathers first realized revolution. We will rise from the lake-rimmed cities of the Midwestern states. We will rise from the sun-baked South… We will rebuild, reconcile, and recover. And every known nook of our nation and every corner called our country, our people diverse and beautiful, will emerge battered and beautiful. When day comes, we step out of the shade aflame and unafraid. The new dawn blooms as we free it. For there is always light, if only we’re brave enough to see it. If only we’re brave enough to be it. I’ve been reading about the brave and kind people of Minnesota, out in the bitter cold helping their immigrant neighbors and I was reminded of lines from a poem by Amanda Gorman, The Hill We Climb. I want to share these lines (with my emphasis): We are striving to forge our union with purpose To compose a country committed to all cultures, colors, characters and conditions of man…. …we will raise this wounded world into a wondrous one. We will rise from the golden hills of the West. We will rise from the windswept Northeast where our forefathers first realized revolution. We will rise from the lake-rimmed cities of the Midwestern states. We will rise from the sun-baked South… We will rebuild, reconcile, and recover. And every known nook of our nation and every corner called our country, our people diverse and beautiful, will emerge battered and beautiful. When day comes, we step out of the shade aflame and unafraid. The new dawn blooms as we free it. For there is always light, if only we’re brave enough to see it. If only we’re brave enough to be it. |