Roma’s Laughter

Everyday I read about miseries, old and new in all parts of the globe. It’s Haiti and the Sudan, human trafficking and money laundering, the ravages of malaria and HIV/AIDS, the impact of budget crises. It’s therefore easy for me to loose sight of the way things really are, that there are signs of hope and goodness, little and not so little successes in so many places. And then I hear Roma’s laughter. She’s still a baby and when she sees her mother make faces or looks at a balloon, or responds to playing horsey, she laughs. It’s so clear, so real, so full, so pure, so unfettered by any restraints, constraints, fear, or any other artifice. I hear it and think it is one of the world’s most beautiful sounds. I remember Robert Browning’s Pippa Scott that god’s in his heaven and all’s right with the world, and I know once again that as long as Roma can laugh, as long as any baby can, humanity will somehow triumph.