Dear Honey Run Friends,
In my last letter, I wrote about perspective: keeping hard times in check and holding steady to our good fortunes for sustenance through life’s occasional downturns. Since then, in the span of two weekends, I’ve managed to experience both ends of that spectrum. I witnessed a particularly shocking event while in Atlanta for a business trip, and I’ve been working toward putting it in perspective back here at Honey Run.
I was sitting at a traffic light on my way to dinner in Atlanta Saturday night when, just 30 feet behind my vehicle, a drive-by shooting took place. As the reality of the situation becomes clearer to me, the reasons behind it become less and less comprehensible. The question I’m left with is why — why are we able to treat fellow human beings so poorly? How can we forget the value of life to the point of willingness to take it away so easily?
Exactly one week later, I found myself leaving our new barn after midnight bottle-feeding our first lamb of the season. As I stepped out of the barn and looked up, the aura of a perfect night struck me. The stars shone brightly, constellations in full view. The night was cool, about 40 degrees, and the breeze in my face brought a moment of clarity.
I looked down the hill to see the trail of lights illuminating our drive, everything except the blacktop coated with pure white snow. Back in the sky, I searched for the moon. Hidden behind some low clouds on the horizon, its reflection painted their borders. I paused, in awe of the beauty in front of me and grateful for the chance to witness it.
The question of why there is so much pain, fear, and anger in this world will never be answered to my satisfaction, but then there are nights like this night that seem a million miles away from all of the evil that surrounds our little slice of heaven. Just the innocence of a three-day-old lamb and the naïveté of an innkeeper on a cool, quiet, spectacularly perfect January night at The Inn at Honey Run.
Your marveled friend,