Heartbreak

Before we met, my husband was a young GI who spent a very short amount of time in Japan. I mean, it was a real quick visit. However, my darling never needed more than a minute to bring happiness or make friends. Language barrier? No obstacle for the beautiful man's twinkling brown eyes!

Vito was in Japan long enough to snap a bunch of photos. Last night I sat with his brown leather photo album, looking at the images of my handsome husband surrounded by smiling Japanese citizens. An elderly man, standing beside the uniformed soldier, grinning, obviously tickled to be included in the photograph. One photo shows a woman, young and pretty, smiling from behind a delicate hand. Another, Vito with a group of children. His hand rests gently on one little boy's shoulder.

I've seen these pictures many times. I've always loved seeing this side of my husband, this peek into his life before me. I have never, ever felt anything but joy when I've perused this photo album.

That is, until now. Now I wonder what's happened to these smiling faces. I pray for the men, women and children captured by Vito's camera lens. I pray for them, and all the others whose lives have been shaken and turned upside down--literally--these past days.

I can't imagine what life in Japan must be like today. I am heartsick over the disaster, and wish I knew how to help the people who so warmly welcomed a stranger to their land.

Yes, I know my donation will go toward easing the pain wrought by the earthquake, but I'd like to do more. Much more. But what?