Life is not at all a game of accumulating everything you need and maintaining a certain level of happiness, for happiness after all cannot be maintained. Life is a constant flow, of touching and growing and moving on. Life is either experienced or not, in joy and in sadness, in anger and in despair. Those who choose not its sorrows choose not its happiness as well; and those who choose not to live fully choose only to crumble and to die. – www.itakeoffthemask.com
Herein is the secret to the fullness of life – that one be born again, and again, and again… 🙂 – www.itakeoffthemask.com
I would like to share with you the most touching poem I have ever received. No, it did not come from my boyfriend. And No, it was not even an original composition. Yet the way it was able to come to me was no ordinary thing in my life, certainly nothing I’ve ever expected to give me such a joy.
I got in touch with Vicky in the internet, she became one of my on-line friends though she is only able to send me the same old phrases each time she wants to write me a letter. She says:
Dear Joyce
How are you doing?
I am fine
Vicky
Your friend
If you are wondering why, it is because my friend has some physical limitations that limits her ability to express herself the way we do. As you might have noted, she cannot write. She is only able to write the above phrases from memory. Obviously, she can’t read either. But she enjoys it everytime somebody sends her mail. She has friends that read to her the messages she receives.
One day I sent her a forwarded message, something I thought was cute that I felt I wanted to send her, which I did.
I never thought she’d take so much delight in that message! Her friend who read it to her wrote to me how she LOVED the message I just sent to her. She said that Vicky liked it so much that she went to the library and asked the librarian to help her pick a nice poem for me!
Her friend was amazed by that, that Vicky went out of her way to find me something, a written piece of a poem she cannot even read, to express her gratitude for a piece I never even exerted any effort in composing nor in researching and carefully picking out. A few clicks of a button was all that it took for me to send her that piece. But for me, she went out of her way to give of something out of her love. I felt ashamed and undeserving of all that. Yet I felt the sincerity of her gesture, and the wisdom that does not need the abilities we so often worship and give importance to. It is in simple things like that that we feel the most touching memories we shall always recall. It is in the most unexpected of people and events that we find appreciation, gratitude and love.
Following is the poem she was able to pick out for me, which I am going to quote in the exact words she wrote:
A STITCH OF BLUE
when there is rain, my neighbor comes
to while away the day
and as we chat and mend we find
skes are no longer gray
we share a cup of tea deside
an understanding fire
that knows to glow in emberred tones
or rcach its arms up higher
and when the rain stepped aside
our mending’s finished too
we’ve patched our lives together
a little stitch of blue
sometimes I wish that more of aside
were built of rainy days
so I could take the gray away
In little, friendly ways.
Are you having a grey day? I hope you find some comfort in the most touching poem I have ever received. Great day! J And thank you, my friend.
What can I give to the person who gazed with me the sky, the sea and the morning? Who ran with me, and chased with me the wind that rushed against my cheeks? Who walked side by side with me, and held my hand in warmth, reassuring me that I am not alone?
Who dreamt with me and believed with me, that dreams do come true and are oftentimes just within your reach? Who talked to me her all – her love, her life, her soul? Who listened to me as I poured out everything my heart and mind can ever say?
Who sang with me and danced with me and prayed with me? Who praised and worshipped with my spirit the Great One that created it and blessed it with another so reflective of His love? Who ate with me and slept with me when this tired body can take no more? Who wept with me and rejoiced with me? Who argued with me and reasoned with me? Who learned with me what life is really all about?
Truly, I can never give enough to such a person, in the same way that I can never really thank Him enough who gave me such a friend.
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Friends never get tired
Funny how in real life, we don’t talk to family and friends about the Top Ten Reasons for Living or for Writing a Blog.
Funny how we don’t speak so scholarly or perfectly or as much filled with wisdom and insight like when we used to when posting our best articles on the web.
Funnier still how they always seem interested in what we’re going to say, even if it just be our perennial whines about the office or about a television show we have watched the night before.
Funny how they never seem to get tired of us and of all our boring imperfectly constructed chats. Funny how they don’t easily delete us or unsubscribe to what we can offer them.
Why do they yearn to hear us even though they’ve already heard most of what we’re going to say?
Why do they continue to await our company? Why do they keep on tuning in to our hearts?
Maybe the answer lies in that last part. We wanted to keep in touch not with the external things, but with the person deep inside. You see, that’s how love works, and when love works, you never get tired of it. You yearn for it as though it’s as new as the sunrise you see each morning.
Alas, you know it’s the same ancient sun, yet you never question its fresh beginnings from day to day.
