A friend of mine took the above photo at the marathon today. It was the only picture she took.
Boston is my home, and when I’m being told to stay inside and keep off public transportation, it very much feels as though my city is under attack. And it was. It may still be.
But the bombings today were more than just an attack on Boston. This was an attack on people from all over the world who came to watch and participate in the oldest annual marathon in the world, in which 96 countries were represented. This was an attack on the medical teams who were on hand to help combat dehydration and exhaustion and suddenly found themselves dealing with so much more. This was an attack on those currently in the armed forces, and on veterans, who risked their lives to protect us from tragedies like today happening every day. This was an attack on mothers and children, including the eight year old who was killed in the explosions. This was an attack on my home, but it was also an attack on all of us.
Politics don’t matter. Personal beliefs don’t matter. Nationality doesn’t matter. Location doesn’t matter. This was an attack on you. This was an attack on humanity. This was an attack on decency and safety, because that’s what terrorism is.
And the only way to fight back is to encourage decency and kindness and good to thrive.
If you are able, give blood. If you can afford to, donate to emergency relief funds. Volunteer. Even if you are in another country, even if it will have absolutely no direct impact on us here in Boston, go out and do good. Or go online and do good. Give some extra rice with your clicks. Send love instead of hate. Be gentler and kinder to each other than you would have been yesterday. And then don’t stop.
There are bloodstains on the sidewalks in my city right now because a person or people want to prove that humanity is bad. And yes, some parts of it are. The Boston attacks were not the only violence today, on a mass scale or otherwise. But the world is full of good, kind, brilliantly caring people. And now it’s our turn.
Restaurants in Boston are asking that people pay only if they can. Hotels are offering up open rooms for free. People are sharing their cell phones and couches with strangers. The Red Cross is no longer accepting blood donations because so many people have given.
Boston is showing the world that we are full of love and strength and goodness, and the best thing you can do to support us right now is to show the world that you are too. Do good, and don’t stop doing good. That is how we fight back. That is how we win.
A tear catcher, also called a Tear Bottle is typically an ornamental vase piece, made from blown glass and dyed appropriately to the creator’s taste. There is an attached glass fixture at the opening of the stem that is formed to [the] eye. In ancient Persia, when a sultan returned from battle, he checked his wives’ tear catchers to see who among them had wept in his absence and missed him the most.
Tear Catchers were commonly used during Ancient Roman times, with mourners filling glass bottles with their tears, and placing them in tombs as a symbol of their respect for the deceased. It was also used to show remorse, guilt, love and grief. The women cried during the procession, and the more tears collected in tear bottles meant the deceased was more important. The bottles used during the Roman era were lavishly decorated and measured up to four inches in height. Tear bottles were designed with special seals, which allowed the tears to evaporate. By the time that the tears were assumed to have evaporated, the mourning period was considered over.
In the 19th century during the Victorian era in the British Empire tear bottles made a comeback among the wealthy. These were more elaborate than their Roman predecessors, and were often decorated with silver and pewter.
[Image: Silver Victorian tear catcher]