Simple things often have consequences. While strolling around Belfast, Maine, during the annual Celtic Celebration, I nearly missed a photo op, perhaps because it was simple. I actually walked past it and had to return.

I doubt I’ll receive a Pulitzer for the photo, but I like it because it is an invitation. It’s an invitation to write the story behind the image.
My first reaction was to report the tragedy behind the photo. While I wasn’t tempted to pick it up and take it to lost and found, I did look around for a crying child. I also briefly hoped that Mom or Dad was carrying a spare. It’s a familiar story for anyone who has raised a child.
The simple photo allows us to write the story differently and give it meaning. We can do that in our minds or on paper. But we ought to think when we do so.
Perhaps what seems a tragedy was actually a triumph. It’s possible the child decided, “I don’t need this anymore.” The Belfast waterfront is not such a bad place to commit to something new.
Later in the day, I found a marker that suggested another, different story. Or maybe not so different. For some reason, I’d missed it during all my previous visits to the harbor.
“Laila Al-Matrouk might have stopped here to talk with, you friend or stranger. She met the world with unabashed curiosity and love. Peace was her goal and justice her path. The Laila in our hearts reminds us to laugh and dance and sing our way to that future.“
The stories we see and hear, the stories we write, may blur the line between tragedy and triumph when we approach those stories with curiosity and love. Leave lots of room to laugh and dance and sing.



