What are my sources of strength? My husband and my three kids

In the words of Geraldine Ferraro, “What are my sources of strength? My husband and my three kids, my health-care team, and my religion,” there echoes not just a confession of personal resilience, but a timeless truth about the pillars that sustain the human spirit. When one stands at the edge of trial and despair, the soul does not endure by sheer will alone—it leans upon what is steadfast, what is sacred, and what is near to the heart. These words, drawn from the struggles of a woman who faced both political storms and personal battles with illness, are a beacon to those who, in their own hours of darkness, seek the ground on which to stand.

The first source she names is family. A husband and children, bound not by circumstance but by love, are the hearth-fires of human endurance. In the ancient days, warriors carried amulets etched with the names of their kin, believing that no sword could strike as deeply as the thought of leaving loved ones behind. So it was with Ferraro, whose courage was nourished by the laughter and loyalty of those closest to her. Let us remember the tale of Marcus Aurelius, emperor and philosopher, who, despite ruling a vast empire, turned again and again to the simple joys of his family for solace amid war. Even the mighty must rest their hearts on love.

Yet love alone is not enough when the body falters. Thus she speaks of her health-care team. Here is recognition of a second truth: that strength is not always solitary, but communal. In the halls of healing, where physicians and nurses labor, one finds the ancient bond of service—humans lifting one another from frailty. Recall the story of Florence Nightingale, the “Lady with the Lamp,” whose tireless devotion brought light to soldiers broken by war. She too was a pillar, a living proof that the hand of another can become the bridge between despair and hope. Ferraro’s words remind us to honor those who bear the skill to mend flesh and ease suffering, for they are guardians of life itself.

The third source she invokes is religion, the eternal wellspring of meaning. For when flesh grows weak and the heart trembles, it is faith that steadies the soul. Across the ages, prophets and saints have turned to the divine when no earthly hand could rescue them. Consider the trials of Job, who lost all—family, fortune, health—yet clung to God and endured. His story, like Ferraro’s, teaches us that the unseen strength of spirit can carry one where mere flesh cannot tread. Religion offers not only prayers, but also a vision of endurance beyond the moment, a reminder that suffering does not have the final word.

Ferraro’s naming of these three sources—family, healing companions, and faith—is no accident. Together they form a triad, like the tripod that holds the sacred flame steady in the winds. One leg alone cannot bear the weight of hardship; together, they create balance and stability. This is wisdom for all generations: to tend not only to one’s household, but also to the bonds of community and the care of the soul.

The lesson here is simple, yet profound: when storms come, do not stand alone. Gather to yourself the warmth of family, the guidance of those who heal, and the hope of the eternal. Even the strongest falter when they cut themselves from these roots. True strength is not a solitary tower, but a woven fabric of love, service, and faith. To neglect any one of these is to weaken the whole.

So what, then, shall we do? First, nurture your family with words of love and deeds of kindness, for they are your fortress. Second, honor and trust those who bring healing, whether doctors, friends, or mentors—do not scorn their care in the pride of self-sufficiency. Third, keep alive your spiritual practices, whether through prayer, meditation, or acts of service, so that your soul remains anchored when the winds howl. In this way, you, too, will have sources of strength ready when the trials of life arrive.

And let this be the teaching carried forward: strength is not born in isolation, but in communion. As Ferraro, a trailblazer in the realm of politics and a fighter in the realm of health, bore witness, so must we. For those who come after us, may these words endure as living wisdom: cherish the bonds that hold you, honor the hands that heal you, and bow to the spirit that sustains you. Thus armed, no trial shall undo you, and your life shall be a light to others in their darkness.