From The Power of Love.

This past week my husband lost his dear sister, Beate. As we sat in the pew of the small church there were many moments of deep grief. We honored her gentle soul and reflected on her full life. The priest stood at the altar, speaking of heaven and memories. His voice was solemn. We held each other's hands trying to hold back what felt like an avalanche of tears.

And then right in the middle of the service I heard it.

A gentle burst of sweet high-pitched laughter floated up from the back of the church. It was utterly joyful. Three children, ages two, four, and six, were giggling and whispering with the kind of wonder and silliness only the very young can express. I turned to look. Family members were gently trying to quiet them, but there was no sternness, only warmth, as if they knew this laughter belonged, too.

It was a true gift and a glimpse of the full spectrum of life. One soul being honored on the way out, and three little ones reminding us of what it means to be just starting out. Somehow, there was joy wrapped up in the goodbye, but with little giggles in between. It was a gentle reminder to remember the innocence of life in the midst of sadness and challenges.

In The Book of Awakening, Mark Nepo says, "Each person is born with an unencumbered spot, free of expectation and regret, free of ambition and embarrassment, free of fear and worry... It is this spot of grace that issues peace." I couldn't help but think of that "spot" as I heard the little ones. They still live from that place. That pure space where life is so curious and funny, filled with questions and wonder.

As adults, we sometimes forget this. We kind of armor up. We mourn and plan and hold tight to the idea of control. But the children reminded us, in that quiet church filled with sadness, that life isn't just what ends. It's also what begins again and again. In every breath, every sunrise, every burst of laughter.

Mark Nepo also says in his beautiful book, "To be broken is no reason to see all things as broken." I thought a lot about that line after the funeral. Loss breaks us, for sure. But in those cracks, light still gets in. And sometimes that light sounds like a two-year-old laughing at something only they can see.

Just like that funeral service, life is often about sorrow and joy held together in the same sacred space. I think that's what it means to be human. We gather to say goodbye and remember a life well-lived and at the same time, we are reminded that life is still bursting forth.

Let's try to learn from the innocence and joy of those at the beginning of their journey because the more we can look at the world with childlike wonder, the closer we come to heaven on earth.

And in the end, maybe there is no real end. Just love, ever circling, ever returning.

The most creative, joyful, and spiritual people I know are childlike. Not childish, childlike, with curiosity, wonder, and a sense of infinite possibility.

Deepak Chopra

Reprinted from the weekly Power of Love column in the Penobscot Bay Papers.

Joanne LaCurrubba Steenberg is an award-winning columnist whose heartfelt and insightful writing has captivated readers across Penobscot Bay Press publications for years. As the creator of The Power of Love, a widely read column exploring compassion, human connection, and personal growth, she blends personal storytelling, wisdom, and cultural insight in a way that resonates deeply with audiences of all backgrounds. [email protected]