The sounds of tragedy are everywhere: howling wind, slamming water, splitting earth, cancer’s mutterings, growling of bloated bellies, clinking of bottles, jabbing of needles, mothers’ crying, and much, much more. What do we do when these sounds become faint? Distant? Far away whispers of an event or series of events that happened to “them,” “him,” or “her?” Do we keep our masks of indifference on, tuck our legs and heads in and retreat into our shells? Or do we allow sparks of empathy to combust within our minds? This ignition affecting quick reactions of assistance to “our” global family? What do we DO when we hear tragedy scream?