The Least of These

A poem by Pat Bush

“Whatsoever you do, to the least of these, this you do unto me.” Matthew 24:40

Each night as I go to bed
I find my thoughts filled with dread.
Tuning out doesn’t lessen the pain.
Will we ever be normal again?
Deep inside I long to be
Peaceful, calm, carefree.
“Stay strong”, I softly say.
“Tomorrow is another day”.
Reality hits, as I arise.
Same old angst. No surprise.
The answer, in a word or two,
“Do unto others, as I do unto you”.
Simple, timeless, a how-to plan
For how to love your fellow man.
Wisdom given for us to share.
Open your heart, be aware.
Things don’t matter, people do.
I’m on board. How about you?
I’ll give toothpaste, I’ll give soap,
And a superabundance of hope.

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Photo by Pixabay

Sleep Tight

Dianne Mattingly Bynum at five years of age.

As told to her Mom years later.

Bedtime was a mixture of feeling both happiness and dread. After our prayers, Mom or Dad and at times both, would tuck us in and give us a hug and kiss.

That felt so good. Then we heard those words I dreaded, “Sleep tight” and Dad would usually add “don’t let the bedbugs bite.”

Before they left the room I had already grabbed my little sister’s gown or pajamas and was holding as tightly as I could. I wasn’t worried about bedbugs. I had never seen a bedbug. I was worried about something much more significant, losing my sister! 

Ever since they put her in my bed and told me to take care of her, I’ve slept tight every night to be sure she doesn’t get lost. She’s such a little girl (I’m big) that she could get lost so easily.

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Sisters, Dianne & Allison, Today

 

“Childhood is a short season.” Helen Hayes

 

Theme photo in title by Pixabay