We must all make peace so that we can all live in peace.

Hear now the words of Jean-Bertrand Aristide, who declared with the solemn voice of one who has walked through storm and fire: “We must all make peace so that we can all live in peace.” This is no gentle suggestion, but a mandate written upon the heart of humanity. For peace cannot be the gift of a single man, nor the decree of a ruler alone—it is the work of every soul, bound together in shared destiny. If one hand sows discord while another seeks harmony, the world remains divided. Only when all bend their will toward peace does the dawn truly break upon the earth.

The wisdom of this saying springs from the soil of struggle, for Aristide himself rose from the poverty of Haiti, a land scarred by tyranny and upheaval. He saw with his own eyes that peace cannot be imposed by force; it must be forged by the collective heart of a people. His words remind us that peace is not merely the absence of war, but the living presence of justice, reconciliation, and mutual respect. If one village makes peace but the next remains in strife, the contagion of violence will spill across borders, until no one can live in safety. Thus peace is not a private treasure—it is a common covenant.

History offers us the example of Nelson Mandela, who, after long years in prison, emerged not with vengeance in his heart but with the flame of reconciliation. He did not say, “I will make peace for myself alone.” Instead, he labored so that both black and white South Africans could live together without chains of hatred. His greatness lay not only in forgiving his enemies, but in urging all people to forgive, to reconcile, to build together. For he knew, as Aristide proclaimed, that to live in peace, all must make peace. One man’s forgiveness cannot undo a nation’s bitterness unless all join the labor.

Consider also the truth of this in the smallest circle of life—the family. If the father holds peace but the mother carries resentment, if the child forgives but the sibling clings to anger, then the home is divided, and no one truly dwells in harmony. Likewise, in the great family of nations, if some pursue peace while others fan the flames of violence, the earth trembles with conflict. Only when each person, each house, each people take up the burden of peace, does harmony reign.

O listeners, mark this well: peace is not a gift handed down; it is a work lifted up by many hands. It requires humility, the laying aside of pride, the courage to forgive, the strength to listen. It is easier to raise a sword than to lower it; easier to demand than to reconcile. Yet the path of peace, though steep and narrow, leads to life. The path of hatred, though wide and easy, leads only to ruin. Aristide calls us not to wait for peace, but to make peace—to become builders rather than bystanders.

And what, then, is the lesson for us? It is this: begin where you stand. If you harbor bitterness, let it go. If you have wronged, seek forgiveness. If others cry out in injustice, stand beside them until equity is restored. Do not wait for kings and governments to weave peace, for peace begins in your own tongue, your own choices, your own dealings with friend and stranger alike. Each act of mercy, each word of kindness, each deed of fairness is a stone laid in the foundation of a world where all may dwell securely.

Therefore, let your daily life be a workshop of peace. In your home, let peace rule your words. In your community, let peace guide your actions. In your nation, let peace direct your vision. For when each heart makes peace, all hearts may live in peace. This is the eternal teaching: that harmony is not the work of the few, but of all, and only in shared labor does humanity ascend from chaos to blessing.