The light at the end of the tunnel

There have been plenty of times when my faith in humanity has faltered. I have often wondered where the competent people are and how on Earth the inept seem to be running things. I read the news online and for every uplifting story, there are three dismal. It seems in times like these, finding hope is hard; making a difference is difficult. The mentality that one is too small is the majority and there is so much talk, yet so little action. These words could apply to so many things relevant to the now- the oil spill, our healthcare system...
But just when things in my little world seemed ultimately bleak; the light at the end of the tunnel so far away, I see a shimmering beam. It comes in the form of people with smiling faces, strength in their hands and passion in their hearts.
The woman I am proud to call my grandmother suffered a stroke on New Year’s Eve and has been in the rehab wing of the nursing home for nearly six months, fighting with everything she has to regain the use of her right side, the ability to speak again, and her independence.
Because of the hard work, perseverance and dedication of a few good people I can call family, by blood or not, she was able to return to her home this weekend after 6 months away- a fully accessible, sparkling clean, freshly landscaped, handicap-approved home.
My faith has been restored and the light seems just a little bit closer.