May the peace of God be with you,” she says, her voice low, “even in the midst of trouble.”“Why would it?” I say softly, so no one else can hear. “After all I’ve done...”“It isn’t about you,” she says. “It is a gift. You cannot earn it, or it ceases to be a gift.

It seems like the rebellions never stop, in the city, in the compound, anywhere. There are just breaths between them, and foolishly, we call those breaths “peace".

I have never been carried around by a large boy, or laughed until my stomach hurt at the dinner table, or listened to the clamor of a hundred people all talking at once. Peace is restrained; this is free.

At home I used to spend calm, pleasant nights with my family. My mother knit scarves for the neighborhood kids. My father helped Caleb with his homework. There was a fire in the fireplace and peace in my heart, as I was doing exactly what I was supposed to be doing, and everything was quiet. I have never been carried around by a large boy, or laughed until my stomach hurt at the dinner table, or listened to the clamor of a hundred people all talking at once. Peace is restrained; this is free.

A son says to his Mother: "Mother, today I fought with my friend."His Mother says: "Why did you fight with your friend?""Because he demanded something of me, and I would not give it to him.""Why did you not give it to him?""Because it was mine.""My son, you now have possessions, but you do not have your friend. Which would you rather have?""My friend.""Then give freely, trusting that you will also be given what you need.