Mother Theresa once said that we should never let others come to us without us leaving them better. This is easier said than done. People can catch us in inopportune times, in times of busyness, when we’re least likely to forgive them for a misstep and most likely to snap because of some interruption. They find us in poor moods, when the circumstances of our days have clouded our better judgment and encouraged us to respond curtly, and even in anger. If we’re not careful, we even begin to see others as obstacles rather than allies, as burdens instead of potential friends. Still, there is a profound wisdom in the practice of mercy. The simple act of ignoring a slight-- or, even better, of responding with warmth to the awkward moments in others’ lives when their faults are laid bare before us—teaches us more about grace than any treatise, sermon, or exposition ever could; and when we pay close enough attention to it in others, it forces us also to stop and begin to consider those around us with greater care. In short, the act of grace causes us to treat people as people.
This wasteland cold and dark runs free Its fearful creatures speak to me One fateful day one nudged my hand To set my eyes upon a tree He knew I could not understand For I was in his native land His signs became our common speech To lead me through the deadly sand Now stuck I saw him me beseech He could not lift me out to reach The firm foundation of a cave Outside the boundaries of this beach Withal, the beast became more brave To risk his own my life to save To carry me, its life it gave To carry me, its life it gave. This poem was inspired by Robert Frost's "Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening." That poem, like this one, has four four-line stanzas of eight syllables per stanza. Its rhyme scheme is AABA BBCB CCDC DDDD.
Comments
Post a Comment