I suppose that as someone who has survived terror, my gift and message is to recognize that life is terror but life is beauty too. At first when I went through my great losses, I was angry and bitter. I thought “how could this happen to ME?!” But life doesn’t care. Life metes out terror to all. Some of us get a bigger helping than others, and before I was very unhappy about that. But now, I see how that stress has ripened me like the sun baking grapes on the vine to make them sweeter. I know that people in the grips of terror are loathe to hear that “it’s all happening for a reason,” and I understand the futility of that comment. I can only say that I have found peace in spite of the terror. Some days the whip’s sting lashes me right in the gut, and I have to metaphorically sit down for a bit. And yet, I have to get up and move forward. It sounds overly trite, I know, but life is not in the falling down but in the getting up. Life is not in the frowns, but in the smiles that dare to supplant them in the face of terror.