I led a training for a group of dedicated people who work with the most difficult adolescents in the city--the teens who run, cut, spit, and fight. 

Having met me before or heard about me, they came into the training with faces soft and open.

Receptive.

Their spiritual leader, who happens to be this emotionally beautiful black man, led the plunge: sharing the traumatic childhood story of how he became a protector of vulnerable people. He put his head down and wept about his trauma and his loss. 

The group wept together.
Held each other and themselves.
Knowing they needed this, fearing the vulnerability.
They ended the session wrung out and cleansed,
affirming their love for each other and the purpose of their work. 

And in front of me, I saw angels embodied in scarred vessels. Men and women of color, who came from the same neighborhoods and upbringing as their residents, but "for the grace of god" transforming their suffering into a healing touch.