There’s a woman who stands at the corner of 11th and G, Northwest DC. She’s been there for years; her clothes tattered and worn through the many seasons of a system incapable of care.
She offers her smile, asking nothing in return. “Blessings for all,” she chimes to all those passerby. In spite of her ‘circumstance’ she’s become a continued source of joy.
She’s been there since she lost her only child, a son – off fighting a war over capital versus human gains.
I remember passing her one morning many years ago. “What’s wrong, love?” her face warmed with the light of an inner peace. I explained the ‘troubles’ of my life; the displacement of home, of family, of work.
“Sometimes I wish it could be just as it always was,” I said. Graciously, she permitted my rambling; my heart purging the details of ‘all that was wrong now.’
And, when I paused to take a breath – she asked, “Are you done?” Then pointed to a scene transpiring just beyond. A young woman and her toddler son, taking in the joy of a newly autumn day.
“You get one shot,” she smiled. “And then it’s gone.”
She didn’t have to say another word, because, it was then that I knew – these blessings of day, are a blessing to all.
A little something to consider, my friends…
“Blessings to all…”
Namaste ❤️