Dinari, 15,* is a second-generation Peace (Of The City) kid. His Momma was part of POTC in the early 2000s. She reached out to us this year, longing for her son to “get what Peace gave her growing up.” Our roster was full, but we never hesitated to make room for him. Recently, in the weekly Beatitudes Class I teach, I talked about  “Blessed Are Those Who Mourn.” He looked at me oddly as a softness came over his face, an openness that I stepped into by asking him what he was thinking. He shocked me and told the story of his father being stabbed to death in the neck when Dinari was younger. He wanted to know how he could be “blessed by missing his dad” . . . And there, in a room full of his peers all silenced by his courage and with the December darkness hovering outside the wall of classroom windows, we broke open this very hard truth of the Comfort of God and found The Light Of The World.