… there will be more sunbreaks, no matter how dark the day seems.
I know this because of my faith, and because of the power of friendship.
Sample: Sent a ‘happiest of new years’ email to a treasured friend in Prague.
Charles read the post about sunbreaks and said he’s adding the word to his multilingual life.
“Meanwhile, I am taking a new word you taught me — “sunbreak” into my vocabulary for grey, wintry Prague,” he replied. “As soon as I spot one, I am going to let you know!”
Charles was a sunbreak when we met in Kabul at the start of the Afghanistan war.
He was a sunbreak on one of our most daunting trips in that country, to a place held sacred by people of many faiths, worldwide.
Charles was a sunbreak in our darkest days: He was the only journalist to find us at a military hospital in Germany, when I was in a coma, after the Afghanistan attack. Hadi recalls Charles’ phone call as one of the most comforting then.
Much later, when Hadi and I met his delightful wife and daughter in Prague, we told Charles how we had known from first meeting that he would be a friend-for-life.
Some friends are like sunbreaks. No, they are sunbreaks.
TOMORROW: How three journalists journeyed into darkness, and found light among some of the world’s poorest people