A Chink in the Armor

This has been a long week. A very long week. Much longer than I had realized or allowed myself to acknowledge.

My emotional armor is well polished, fits well and is comfortable. My sword, hardened steel, sharpened by months of honing, cuts down adversarial thoughts before they can get near me. My helmet, gleaming in the sunlight, repels even the harshest blows. I am well protected against the expected enemies of fear, despair and worry. You might think, to look upon me, that nothing can penetrate. Nothing could get to me.

But even the most glorious warrior has an inevitable weakness. Icarus got too close to the sun. Achilles had his infamous heel. Sampson had his sensitive hair.

Me? My weakness is unexpected, unexplained and incredible kindness.

With Cadence at her 4H archery practice, Fin and I were getting ready to read a book when the doorbell rang. Fin called out that she didn't know who it was, so I went to shoo away the likely political candidate's rep.

What I found was a very nicely dressed young couple, who somehow knew my name. And they knew about Harper. She told me she works for a local jewelry store, and someone had come into her store today, and told her the story of our brave little girl.

She also knew it was a special day, and she wanted to give Harper a gift. A very nice bracelet. I accepted it graciously, and thanked her so much for her generosity. (I've gotten good at the art of a smooth acceptance of generosity) The couple shook my hand, and departed, taking up no more of my time.

I walked back inside, still fully protected in my armor. Not a chink had shown. And then I read the card. I hope that the giver does not mind that I share her words:

Happy "Birthday" Harper!
Until today, I did not know who you were, but now I am touched by your story. It's no surprise that words about remarkable people travel far. Beautiful people don't just happen, they are created with immeasurable grace. Congratulations on how far and how much success you've achieved. May you keep being brave and above all believe.
I wish you and your beautiful family all the love and laughter in life.

God Bless You Harper!
-V

My armor fell from me as if it had melted. My sword vaporized. My helmet hit the ground and shattered. And I wept uncontrollably.

Someone I've never met felt so compelled by the mere story of Harper to seek us out and give her a beautiful card and generous gift. She showed love and kindness to someone whom she did not know. And with that gesture, she breached all my defenses, and truly humbled me.

I work hard to put on an air of confidence and strength. It takes an incredible amount of effort to keep up appearances, and I am drained. It is important, I believe, for Harper and her sisters to have normalcy preserved (as much as we can) and my armor is useful. At work, the armor allows me escape as well.

But occasionally, as occurred tonight, the armor fails in its duties - a chink is found - and the enormity of this life, this situation, this family under attack is realized.

Thank you to everyone who has been so supportive and generous to us through this prolonged and renewed crisis. Maybe you only saw my armor. Maybe the protection has held. Maybe that day I had more strength and maintained the barrier. Maybe you knew the weakness and chose not to expose it.

But it is there, and perhaps the armor is not as thick as it appears. Maybe the sword is heavier than I let on as I wield it. Maybe the helmet does not offer the protection you'd guess based on its shine.

Maybe, just maybe, there is a chink in the armor.