Tacloban, Part VIII

Sometimes, even in the midst of a disaster
area you have to stop and notice the beauty. 
Some people might think it a
mockery. How could there be beauty in the midst of so much suffering? How dare
we enjoy beauty, how dare we rest? Why are we not working still, pushing
ourselves, doing something to relieve
the suffering? There is no time for anything as frivolous as beauty. It merely
mocks the loss of the people who have lost everything.

But then I have to ask, is it really a mockery after all? 

Or is
it perhaps a sort of message? Perhaps even an answer?

For behold, all will be well, and All will be well, and all manner of things will be most well. 

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