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Sometimes I write from the heart. Today it’s a spontaneous feeling of deep gratitude toward other fellow human beings, the ones we call unsung heroes, the ones I call SILENT HEROES. It takes a very special mood to give this feeling so much space in me to write about it. A tidal wave, but a good one, which repeatedly in the end also forces me into action.
When I have time to worry about being too busy, perhaps I am not as busy as I thought I would be? How can I possibly have time to write a blog post -yet here I am. The end of the year is the busiest time of the year for me. All my customers want their projects back in their homes before the holidays and nowadays -I am not sure how and when it happened- the holiday season starts already before Halloween.
. . .
The neighbor whose kids wave at your every morning
The nurse who takes care of your parents
The grocery clerk, who helps you find what you need
“Respect has to be earned,” one of the many wrong statements I made when I was younger, and which I now would like to retract. I didn’t know it better, had been blinded by the vanity and confidence of my youth. Now, years later, getting older has given me a different outlook, perhaps even a sprinkle of wisdom.
As of today, 143,895 families and individuals have offered to take Ukraine refugees in, all together they have 327,844 beds available. All of them are private citizens mainly from Germany but also from neighboring countries, willing and eager to open their homes to Ukrainian (and Russian) refugees without hesitation.
Genuine goodness, the kind that overwhelms you and leaves you speechless, and makes you wonder if you are deserving of such an act, stays often hidden. Actually, truth to be told, it can show up in the dark.
I know, because it parked in front of our home. I watched it arrive!
In many ways, I live in luxury. A great luxury for me is to be able to choose the people around me. I don’t have to deal with everyone who gets put in front of my nose. I spend time with most people because I want it that way.
The man working window eleven
at the DMV wears his name around his neck
like a medal won in a war
he never signed up for. Even from here,
A blogger I have never met and hardly know, made me cry. Silent, happy tears rolled down my cheeks. My heart was overflowing with gratitude, my mind puzzled by the kindness of a stranger. Sometimes it’s not just the gift itself, but the thought that counts.
Before you know what kindness really is
you must lose things,
feel the future dissolve in a moment
like salt in a weakened broth.