The day was filled with positive affirmations, as the angel walk took hold of us all. While our energies were still aligned, I started conversing with a woman who I’d seen earlier from the other side of the room. A strong German woman, sunny hair and warm features. Her presence energetic. Playful like the children she cares so much for, gives so much of her own life for. Between the giggles and the sharing of love she took a minute to understand me and then professed. You have a sort of humble power, she said. In between the blushed cheeks and grins, I was transported back to a time in secondary school. Year 11, when Miss Hanna our English teacher spoke to us of Power. She threw the question out: Who in this room, not including me of course, do you think has the most Power? The pack of popular schoolgirls who sat at the back of the class, ready to devour, shouted above each other, ultimately coming to the conclusion that perhaps it was their leader. The prettiest one with the sleekest hair. No other voice spoke, and as ever the fate of the class was decided by the extroverted few. Miss Hanna caught their answer and slammed it down on her desk. Power, she declared, is not about who is the loudest, the most vocal. It is not found in someone who forces you to listen. Power can be found in the quiet around us, those who choose when to speak and often choose wisely. Miss Hanna’s eyes met mine as she spoke for my silence.