She called today, my dear, sweet baby, in so much hurt and tears. But Granny knows the pain of it, as her babies are everywhere, of every faith, in every place, of every hue and creed.
Little Sarwat, what a lovely name, a joy of Granny's heart. Granny's cookin' everyone loves, but I turns to ones who knows about food and who can sometimes be teachin' me.
But these are times that Granny understands some need her more right now. And Sarwat tells me she tries to say what other folks cannot. For she knows her faith is one of peace, and that there are folks who use it to divide, to hurt, destroy. She turns to Granny's heart at times 'cause she knows that in these arms is love for her and everyone who loves The Man Upstairsc. What makes things worse for her and for her friends is them terrorists try to make these good people to blame for everything, as if they were part of the evil ways that some folks have that make everyone else look bad.
“My dear, Sarwat, your Granny knows; and yes I am right here, where love is strong, where wisdom lives, where no hate enters in. “
I hear her whisper, softly now, the tears are brushed aside. The night is gone; the daylight comes, and like every eternal flower that blooms in love's strong light, my little Sarwat stands up strong and shining and so beautiful she makes her Granny proud.