People often ask me why I smile so much, why I always whistle a song and greet people cheerfully. Some must it annoying. And I don’t know how to help them understand. I am happy because I no longer live in a place where kids step over blood puddles on the sidewalk.
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How could I not be happy? How could I not smile? My children are growing up in peace, in a place of safety. It isn’t urgent to teach them to hide from the killers if we are killed first. I don’t have to escort female family members, they can shop safely for their groceries.
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How could I not be cheerful? To people raised in safety, a safe town feels boring and they itch to move away. But to someone like me, a quiet rural town is like a promised land. Like a safe paradise for my family.
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In rural America I found safety for my family, freedom from violent men, and peace from my nightmares. And that is all the reason I need to be happy. In light of what has been before, what reason could I have not to be happy? What reason do you have, friend, not to be happy?
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