I was home, and that night I had decided to take a relaxed night to myself before the busy work/school week, and shut myself away from the news and the internet, because the news had been very exhausting and depressing that month in particular. I heard the news in a call from my boyfriend as I was going to bed, and I cried for a long time that night, unable to comprehend how this evil had hit so close to home, 8 hours away from where I live. To me, there was no difference between Quebec City and my home city Ottawa. This ugly disease of hatred and violence was showing itself here and now. The next evening, I attended the vigil at the eternal flame on Parliament Hill, where a large crowd stood quietly, respectfully, shocked. One year later, it was so uplifting to attend the vigil tonight, with many more people gathered, chatting, passing around candles, supporting each other, and listening to truly beautiful voices from the local Muslim community. The strength and leadership of the event’s organizers, and the attentiveness of the crowd makes me feel hope for us, which I often struggle to feel.