In my Small Things posts, I write about the things bringing me joy and hope. It is sometimes important to note, though, that the good things don’t always diminish the sad and the bad, as I wrote on Substack, here. Life is full of both joy and pain.

In fact, this week, before I find my way into my Small Things list, I feel drawn to writing a little about sadness.

I saw a Facebook post, in which a worried parent asked what to say to their child, who was devastated after watching Goodnight Mister Tom. It had shown them something of the horrors of child abuse and war. Many of the comments echoed my own feelings: sadness is the only response to such things, but it is a sign of compassion. And a world with compassion is a world with hope.

I came across several things this week that, for me, held this blend of sorrow and hope. Today, this poem, Obituary for our Planet, brought tears to my eyes. I also saw this reel by Greenpeace, about Trump’s decision to drill for oil, risking the endangered Rice’s Whales. As I watched, it felt like the sea was sadness itself, and I grieved for those beautiful creatures, though of course they are not quite lost yet. These both came to my attention on the hundredth birthday of David Attenborough. My daughter told me that their school joined in a live assembly in which he spoke about his work and passion for conservation (perhaps along similar lines to this clip?). When there are people like him, living out of their passion and humanity, there is some hope left for the world, even now.

Similarly, I have been reading poets, sharing their hearts in different ways. James Crews wrote about the vulnerability and importance of sharing our art. Alex Dawson gave a moving example of this when she shared a child’s comic book version of one of her poems.

All this is to say that sometimes sadness is tenderness – the softness that Dawson writes about – and I think that tenderness is the only way to respond to our aching hearts and breaking world.

So as I sit here, late at night, trying to help my son fall asleep, I am holding both my sadness and my joy gently. I am thankful for both, and for how they blend into humanity.

This week’s Small Things include:

-Lighter evenings and the joy of riding bikes downhill.

-Wildflowers, from garlic to buttercups.

-The kindness of other people.

-A quick walk in the fields with my husband.

-The exuberance of my goats.

-Watching our leopard gecko.

-Great books: My current read is The Assassin’s Blade, by Sarah J Maas; the previous one was How to Raise an Elephant by Alexander McCall Smith. Two books that could not be more different in style and tone, but which share themes of compassion and kindness.

What are your Small Things this week?