Sr. Wantabee lives on the edge of the tornado “disaster zone” in N. Minneapolis.. Blue tarped roofs greet her eyes and crumpled garages, blown out windows and reorganized lives. But the big victim in the zone is the thousands of trees that lay crumpled, blocking roads, fallen on houses, snapped, broken, delimbed, uprooted, roots exposed for the world to see. One or two human lives were lost but thousands of trees gave their lives protecting their homes that they shade from the heat of the day, that they adorn with colorful leaves in the Fall, that they silently stand guard over. How like the “war zones.” She thought of the children who’s lives are changed, innocent victims of violence they don’t understand. She thought of the ripples and reprocussions from our greed and lust that go out and affect the innocent people that stand around us. Sr. Wantabee is very, very, very sad.