Like many of you, I'm having a great deal of trouble sleeping.
I've always had wildly vivid dreams. Full color. Memorable.
Sometimes they're fun - a lot of fun.
Sometimes they're scary.
Sometimes they're sad.
My thoughts lately, like many of you, have been on the children.
You know who I mean.
The children locked in cages.
Those children are occupying not only my thoughts during the day, but also some time in my dreams.
When I woke up this morning, I do as I always do.
I reached over to pat the side of the bed that belongs to Donald just to make sure he's there.
And then I moved my foot to make sure Annabelle was there.
Then I just happened to glance over at the wall.
The shadow I see on the wall is one caused by the early morning sun shining through the window backlighting a piece of handblown glass which was a gift from a friend.
I have become so accustomed to seeing this shadow that I rarely give it a moment's thought.
But this morning, without thought, I looked at it and I started crying.
In my mind was the question, what do the children who are alone, separated from their families, unable to speak English - some unable to yet speak at all - see and think when they first wake up in the morning?