Tending to Shards

Mercy requires tending to shards—broken bits that can puncture even the thickest of skin. Imani Perry offers a profound reflection on mercy’s connection to human shards in Breathe: A Letter to My Sons. I’ll quote in full, and let Perry’s be the last words.

I am always dropping glasses. And I notice this—the shards scattered about the ground are beautiful. They catch light; they have an organic geometry. I have learned over time and by experience, however, that if I don’t clean the mess up entirely, we will be bleeding all over the place. Or digging shards out of our feet. And so I brush the glass into the dustbin until the sound moves from tiny tinkles to the softest swish. Until the shards are too small to sweep, and I pick them up by pressing my masking-tape hand against the floor in every corner.

The shards of heartbreak cannot simply be thrown away. They have to be reworked. This requires a careful examination, a tender holding. Of whoever is broken, whether it is you or someone you love.