A child psychologist stands at an intersection with a protest sign about separated families. The next week, Ruth Pittard joins her — but with a sign that says only "LOVE." The psychologist looks at Ruth's sign, sets her own sign down, and says: "If your sign works, I'll never need mine." That was nearly nine years ago. Ruth hasn't stopped. Every Wednesday, she and a few others stand at a five-road intersection in their mountain town, making eye contact with fifteen hundred passing drivers, offering what she calls "an energy transfer." As she writes, "Once you hang 'LOVE' around your neck, you have to live it." A man once confronted her with his twelve-year-old daughter beside him. Ruth realized his daughter was watching, but she wasn't listening to their words — she was watching whether Ruth was being love, or just holding a sign that said it. In 2024, when Hurricane Helene hit, it was one of the largest natural disasters Ruth's town had ever seen. She stood at the back of emergency response lines and listened to strangers who had lost everything. In simply being a witness, she held space for their shock and heartbreak, fears and hopes. From childhood to motherhood, secretary to college dean to well-wisher on the street corner, Ruth's life has been organized around a single conviction: that love can lead the way.
