From One Sunday to the Next

we don’t know.

We don’t know what a person
has gone through,
the person in front of us,
behind us,
beside us,
with two Sundays serving as bookends.

We don’t know
the gains,
the losses,

where hope increased,
where it all but disappeared,

the unexpected good news that came
or the call they weren’t quite ready for.

We don’t know
what fell on another’s ears,
words of encouragement
or words that wound.

We don’t know
if a single chat with a close friend
was savored the entire week
or if endless hours of social networking
heightened feelings of isolation.

We don’t know someone else’s need.
We barely know our own at times.

And so, to be MINDFUL
of our not knowing.
A good first step, that.

This post originally appeared in 2010. 


About Marilyn

Reading, thinking, listening, writing and talking about faith, creativity, ESL for refugees, grief and finding the story in a story. Student of Spanish. Foe of procrastination. Cheez-it fan. People person with hermit tendencies or vice-versa. Thank you so much for reading.
This entry was posted in community, compassion, friendship, neighbor, people, poems, relationship. Bookmark the permalink.

3 Responses to From One Sunday to the Next

  1. pastordt says:

    Yes, yes. We had three deaths last week.


  2. Belinda says:

    Someone said this week that someone told them that if they disliked a person it was only because they didn’t know them yet. Such a good thought, and connected to the point of this post. There is so much we just don’t know about people we rub shoulders with each week.


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