Today has been a dark day.
As I write this, 22 people are confirmed dead from last night’s Manchester Arena suicide bombing, one of them an eight-year-old girl. Any terrorist attack is a awful, frightening thing, but it causes a particular jolt when it happens in your own area. What especially shook me when I saw the news this morning was that my parents were supposed to be going to the Manchester Arena this week, to see Take That. (Those shows have now, understandably, been postponed.)
Even with all the terrorist attacks that have taken place worldwide in recent years, it feels impossible to comprehend what kind of sick mind could decide to detonate a bomb at a concert full of children. It makes you feel helpless. It makes you fear for the world more than ever.
But in the aftermath, the goodness of humanity has shone through as well. From Manchester residents offering their homes to stranded concert-goers, to taxi drivers offering free transport, people have been banding together and looking to do whatever they can to help. And that’s why, in spite of those that caused this tragedy, I continue to have hope.
My thoughts go out to all those affected by what has happened.