the life you have and deciding to find meaning inside it rather than spending every waking hour mourning the life you didn’t get.
Walter found his meaning in small things.
The way the hallways looked at 5:00 in the morning when the wax was fresh and the floors shown like mirrors.
The way the kindergarteners ran past him every day without fear, sometimes waving, sometimes not, treating him like furniture or like family depending on their mood.
There was one little girl, a second grader named Amara, who used
