The week of April 15 was, for lack of a better word, tough.

No doubt, there are times when we’re reminded as a Nation that our world isn’t perhaps as safe or as peaceful as we’d like to imagine it.

The bombings in Boston wrought destruction, death, and multiple injuries. It wounded people — hurt families, friends — but it also wounded the very heart of the U.S.

No matter how divided we may seem, it hurts to see people struggling.

So out of the disaster came harrowing stories and tales that tugged at the heart strings.

We saw an outpouring of kindness in the wake of such a horrible unfolding of events, and it reminded me of the unity that I saw when I was 11 years old, after the Sept. 11 attacks in New York.

Never has there been a time that I can recall with such clarity that I truly felt like such a part of something so much bigger than myself.

I think most Americans could attest to having felt the same, many for the first time in their lives.

It’s sad, perhaps, that we need disaster to unite us. But it also speaks volumes that in such a time of need, we all manage to step up to the plate and we find ourselves able to give, and give, and give and the outpouring of love and support that we show for one another is astounding in the most dire times.

It’s easy to believe the worst about people, and about society — we’re often shown the ugliest, darkest sides of people and it’s so easy to let that get us down.

But whenever there’s darkness, there’s also light.

And if there’s anything to learn from tragedy, it’s that when everything is said and done, when we’ve been knocked down, we’ll always get back up. We’ll always be able to stand, because there will always be people there to pick us up.

And that’s what really matters most about us.