I just opened a nice little book full of Helen Steiner Rice poems, a gift from a heart-attached friend. The poem read as quick and delightful as all of her poems do, but there was a part that stuck out in my mind to keep thought of.
Our memories . . . are our own; our very own. Just as our thoughts are inside our head, no one can tamper with them unless we allow them to.
When I think of you and the touch of your life upon mine, I smile. We may not always connect, keep in contact; and the miles of distance between us will always be there, but you made a difference in my life and my memories of the times you spoke encouragement to me . . . are real.
Don't we all need a friend who will come beside us, listen, read, feel our heart and the truth of who we are on the inside? And, isn't it wonderful when God, in His own Divine way, places someone that we'd never have thought existed - to do just that; to listen, to read, feel who we are?
And, aren't I truly blessed with more than one?
Yes, I am.
June 30, 2012
- Filed under: My Memories