Early in the morning, while it was still dark, women journeyed to honor the monks at sunrise. 

When I arrived, I met two women just before 6am. 

One traveled from Oregon.

One traveled from Knightdale.

The one from Knightdale is a veteran.

The Oregon woman brought socks as an offering. The Knightdale woman brought flowers. I brought hand warmers to share.

Then a fourth woman appeared. 

She traveled from Florida and slept in her car outside the school where the monks were. She is also a Veteran.

We chatted like familiar strangers. We were learning each others’ life stories as we saw Aloka and one of the team walking him. He brought Aloka over to us. I blessed Aloka and told him he’s so brave. I thanked him for all the unity, hope and joy he’s bringing to humans everywhere. His person quickly, lovingly took him back inside so the ice would not hurt his paws. 

Others began to gather. A man originally from Canada. A couple from down the street. A woman from Charlotte. A local dentist and her team. Someone brought Hardee’s breakfast to law enforcement.

As I was sharing hand warmers with a sheriff, the woman from Oregon walked away and was on the phone. When she returned, she was tearful. She had just learned her spouse was found unresponsive at home and EMS was there. We hugged her. She was debating what to do since the journey home would not be quick no matter when she started. During her discernment, we noticed the monks were out front of the school. Time stood still as they chanted and gave thanks to the school for safe shelter. More were gathered by then to wish them a safe journey as they left our state. We admired them-cautious, calm, focused-as they walked through the ice and off into the sunrise to began today’s journey. We instinctively cried tears of joy, release, and hope. We cried to taste salt to see if the surreal was real. 

When they were out of sight, a seemingly choreographed exhale brought us all back into our bodies. We four reunited as heavier tears flowed from the eyes of our Oregon Sister. She remarked that her spouse is “85 and has had a life many only dream of.” I said something about what a privilege it is to age. Knightdale Sister said she agreed and will be 70 this year. Oregon Sister said she will be 70, too, and they high-fived. Florida Sister & I giggled watching them. 

“What should I do? I think I need to go back home.” 

“Then that’s your answer. Your gut knows,” I said. I handed her my sign that read, “Peace be with you.” She said, “Oh, I have a sign and I won’t see them again since I’m leaving.” I said, “I know, but this one is for you. Peace be with you and your spouse, whatever comes next for you both.” We hugged and cried. Then we all hugged goodbye and wished each other well. 

As I write, the monks are safely in Virginia this night. Florida Sister was planning to meet them there after a nap. I hope Oregon Sister is safely home or en route. And I hope her spouse is well cared for and not in any pain. I hope Knightdale Sister got her lap swim in once she got home.

The monks started Walk For Peace 95 days ago. I pray their remaining days until DC are filled with earnest hospitality, reverence, and safety. I pray their bodies have renewed strength. I pray their minds stay focused. I pray they have healing from illnesses and injuries. I pray they know peace in their blisters, peace in their hearts, peace in their aching muscles, and peace in their bones. I pray they feel our unending gratitude and awe. 

And I pray all whose lives are changed by their profound steps keep their message of peace going.

Step by step. Conversation by conversation. Open heart by open heart. Hug by hug. Salty tear by salty tear. 

Goodnight, monks.

Goodnight, sisters. 

Goodnight, Aloka.

Peace be with you.