Fear is fuel, and each of us must decide which part of our character it will feed

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One of my favorite necklaces is a vintage, silver pillbox that resembles a book and hangs from a long chain.

The necklace was created by jewelry designer Susan Saltzman, who has a gift for giving new life to forgotten things. The box opens on hinges and holds a small, black and white “wishing stone” from Turkey.

My young grandchildren love that stone and have developed their own rituals for it. They lift it out of the box, hold it between closed hands with their eyes pinched shut, and make a wish. Most of the time, they keep wishes to themselves. As we all know, secrecy is the best chance for wishes to come true.

A couple weeks ago, though, our 8-year-old granddaughter made her wish, held up the stone and said, “I don’t have to keep this one secret. I wished for everyone in the world to love one another, and I know it will come true.”

Her faith in others reminded me of a line from David Whyte’s poem, “The Winter of Listening":

Inside everyone

is a great shout of joy

waiting to be born.

'Why do some people hate other people who are different?'

Optimism is our birthright, but this world has a way of chipping away at it. By age 8, life has already inflicted some dings. Not even a half-hour after she had declared her wish as fact, that same granddaughter tugged on the hem of my shirt as I walked to the car. Her face was somber, and her question stopped me in my tracks.

“Grandma, why do some people hate other people who are different?”

My front porch is my summer sanctuary. I find happy memories, hope and peace out there.

I didn’t have to ask why this was on her mind.

This child lives in an urban, diverse neighborhood. She already knows that a person doesn’t have to look like her to be her friend. Her wide circle of family, friends and neighbors has taught her that love is love, no matter who is on the receiving end of a generous heart.

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She is surrounded by people who have made careers of their causes, from teaching and union organizing to journalism and public service. She is loved and protected, but she is also that child in the doorway, eager to hear what is on the grown-ups’ minds.

I subscribe to the philosophy of my late friend John Glenn, former astronaut and U.S. senator, who once told me that a child willing to ask a serious question deserves a serious answer. There was no ignoring my granddaughter’s question.

I did the best I could on the spot. When someone hates a person who is different, it’s because they fear them, I told her. They are afraid of who and what they do not know.

Health insurer delayed her MRI.: Meanwhile, the cancer that would kill her was growing.

An incomplete explanation, but it’s just the beginning of a conversation we’ll be having for years.

Writing this during Pride Month summons a lot of hard memories of intentional harm. There is more to come. Here in Ohio, where my granddaughter lives, House Republicans have just passed a bill banning transgender girls from playing on girls’ sports teams. If this bill becomes law and an opposing team’s coach, players or parents dispute a girl’s sex, that child could be forced to undergo a pelvic exam.

Wishing and waiting for the day fear is no longer an option

For 20 years, I have been writing about LGBTQ rights, and for all those years I have been reading the angry mail of the bigoted. They are not happy people. They cloak their rage in Scripture and insist only they know God’s love. They are blinded by hatred and blame others for the darkness. They expend so much time and energy vilifying people they do not know, and therefore fear.

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I take heart in this: Over the years, a growing number of people have reached out to tell me how they have changed. Sometimes, it’s personal. A grandchild, a friend, a colleague – someone they care about is more than they knew them to be, and fear is no longer an option. Other times, it’s practical. They’re exhausted by their limited view of the world. They’re tired of being afraid.

Do I wish they had not taken so long? Of course, but when we are asking people to change, we must give them the chance to do so.

Fear is fuel, and each of us must decide which part of our character it will feed. Will our fear shut us down and harden our hearts? Or will it awaken our souls to that joy inside us waiting to be born?

I wish, I wish ... 

Paste BN columnist Connie Schultz is a Pulitzer Prize winner whose novel, “The Daughters of Erietown,” is a New York Times bestseller. You can reach her at CSchultz@usatoday.com or on Twitter: @ConnieSchultz