I was irritated with my wife. After waiting for several weeks to carve out some free time to go find a new set of night tables (her own night table had collapsed under the weight of books), we were finally on our way to buy new ones when my wife stopped to talk to a stranger near our house. Though the incident happened some time ago, I only understood its importance this morning upon reading a poem by the late Jack Agüeros, a New York poet of Puerto Rican parents, which brought that event back to my mind. But I am jumping ahead, so let me backtrack.
“You have to fire the angel in charge of distribution”…an epitaph for our times.
Dr. Chelala always has something beautiful and important to share with us.
My parents grew up during the depression. When I was very young there was still a hobo or two roaming the country. Several times my mother, with kids in tow, brought some poor guy home, fed him, in exchange for some small chore - or not - and sent him on his way. My father would never say anything, not that he could have deterred my mother. It is a pleasant coincidence that I should have been remembering my mother for that in the last couple of days, and now read this piece. Mothers make the world go 'round.
A wonderful story! And food for thought for, hopefully, many people.
Cesar, Thank You. As Usual, You Brought a Smile Today.
It appears we have similar Wives who have similar Husbands…
I too have to stop my earnest endeavors to watch as my Wife Opens Her Heart.
Slow Down, Center, Breath. Open, Perceive, Act with Compassion.
Not a difficult thing to Remember, but a Recurring Requirement these days.