Life here keeps in front of us the fragility of life and the pain of loss. we have had to bury two of our beloved, Khalil, who was a teen, and Keith, who was in his early twenties. We still walk by the places where they died nearly every day. We still talk about their lives and their memories nearly as often. In face of this sort of grief, the only thing that can be done is to be present, to keep showing up, to feel the sting of their loss and to insist that these lost children are our children, too- that every child lost to violence is one of our children. Like Rachel, we continue weeping because “our children are no more.” Being knit together by this grief has made us ever more determined to be rooted in this place.