The Cure at Troy

As I type, I'm wearing three bracelets, hand-made in Kenya, and given to me by my parents over a decade ago. During the early evening hours as the election results were just starting to come in, my four-year-old daughter, McRae, pulled these bracelets from a random drawer in our living room where I had placed them a couple years ago and said: "Here Daddy, you wear these."

Without hesitation, I put them on. As I did so, I remembered their Kenyan origins, and almost simultaneously, realized that the man I hoped would be named the next President of the United States also had a connection to Kenya. The coincidence was uncanny, but I didn't have time to dwell on it. Instead, I just let it add to the special moment that seemed to be unfolding.

Now, with the results finalized, I can't help but reflect on the significance of all the "uncanny coincidences" that have occurred through this election cycle. But I don't believe any of this has truly been a coincidence. I believe our nation saw a person with humility and statesmanship and vision and fairness, and we decided to act on our instincts. We decided to shake off our cynicism and fear of "being had" and elected someone who we believe can take our best qualities, our greatest strengths, and use them for good and prosperity in America and abroad.

After Obama was declared the victor, the television studios flashed historical images of the civil rights struggle in America juxtaposed with live images of people celebrating from around the world. It was powerful in so many ways. This is a seminal moment in our lifetimes. I believe most people recognize it and will make the most of it. We have a lot of important work to do. And as I wear the Kenyan bracelets that my daughter handed me -- perhaps unwittingly, perhaps not -- I am thankful, proud, and humbled to be living for this and to know that the next generation now has a brighter future.

I am reminded of an excerpt from a poem that hangs in my office. It's by Seamus Heaney, and it's called "The Cure at Troy."

Human beings suffer,
they torture one another,
they get hurt and get hard.
No poem or play or song
can fully right a wrong
inflicted or endured.

The innocent in gaols
beat on their bars together.
A hunger-striker's father
stands in the graveyard dumb.
The police widow in veils
faints at the funeral home.

History says, Don't hope
on this side of the grave.
But then, once in a lifetime
the longed for tidal wave
of justice can rise up,
and hope and history rhyme.

So hope for a great sea-change
on the far side of revenge.
Believe that a further shore
is reachable from here.
Believe in miracles
and cures and healing wells.

Call the miracle self-healing:
The utter self-revealing
double-take of feeling.
If there's fire on the mountain
Or lightning and storm
And a god speaks from the sky

That means someone is hearing
the outcry and the birth-cry
of new life at its term.