No title.

Ever since the Harvey family was murdered on New Year's Day, I have made it a point to not go by the World of Mirth. I knew there were flowers and candles and messages placed outside the door, but I didn't want to seem like a gawker. I wanted to give those people that knew them their time. On my way to the tailor today, I passed by the store and couldn't help but stop and look. The number of flowers was overwhelming, as well as the sealed envelopes with "Stella" and "Ruby" scrawled across the front in wonderful and undeniable kid penmanship. They have pieces of butcher paper taped on the store windows where hundreds of people, those who knew the Harveys and those who didn't, have left sweet messages to these people who loved this city and did so much for it. I began to tear up as my eyes scanned the message, that choking lump forming in my throat as I went.

When I finished reading the messages, I said a prayer, and started to make my way up the block. But, something caught my eye. They have a TV set up in the window, playing a montage of the Harvey family which I assume was the one playing at the memorial service. I couldn't make myself move. Ever since I heard about what happened, I recognized that it was awful. But I didn't really get it until I saw them living in that footage. Seeing the little girls was the hardest. They were just babies. In one clip, Kathryn was holding Ruby in her arms, and you could see Ruby mouthing "Mommy" over and over again with a smile as her mother danced with her. At that moment, I really got understood. Here was a family, living their lives, loving each other and their city, and they were taken away for no reason whatsoever. All I could do was pray for the souls of the people who did this, pray that they would have an understanding of how much pain they have caused; I also thanked God for showing me a slight consolation in the fact that atleast that they were all together, and that none of them would have to go through life feeling the absence of another.

After that, I walked over to the tailor, and was greeted by the woman who works there, a nice Korean lady who doesn't speak much English and thinks my name is Balerie. Being as pale as I am, I don't recover quickly from the redness that accompanies crying, so she could obviously tell something was wrong. She came up to me from behind the front desk and asked "You OK?" and kept gesturing towards the chair by the window to see if I needed to sit down. I smiled at her and declined. I told her what I needed done and she filled out my ticket. As I took it from her, she patted my hand and smiled. We said goodbye, and I made my way home. I went inside, hugged my husband, and thanked God that we have each other.