If on a sunny summer’s day

Summer Garden

If on a sunny summer’s day

I walked along a rambling way

Through trees and fields of new mown hay

What profit would it bring me?

 

Or if in autumn I did ride

Upon a boat washed by the tide

To find a place where I could hide

What pleasure would it give me?

 

Perhaps in winter I could run

And slide with children having fun

Or throw a snowball at someone

What lessons would it teach me?

 

If in the spring I watched the trees

Or saw the way a sparrow sees

The spiders and the humming bees

What happiness would greet me?

 

In summer, autumn, winter, spring

Whatever weather they would bring

If I could give to you a ring

What wond’rous love would fill me.

Feeling Appreciated

“I just wish they would say, ‘Thank you,’ now and then.”

Swathes of Glory

As a care-giver I am aware that one of the most common complaints that fellow care-givers utter is, “I just wish they would say, ‘Thank you,’ now and then.”

It’s true. Although most people who require care really appreciate the help that they receive, many are in too much pain, either physically, mentally, spiritually, or emotionally, to think about showing gratitude. It isn’t deliberate. They just don’t know how to say it in the circumstances.

For example, one young girl told her grandfather, who is also her guardian, that she wished he was dead, mainly because he would not allow her to cause injury to her brother. The grandfather merely said, “Yes. I know. I can imagine you feel like that.”

Deep down inside, however, he wondered whether he was cut out for this role, or should he simply give up and send the children into foster care.

Next morning, there was a gentle knock on his bedroom door and his granddaughter walked in with a home-made card with a little drawing and the words, “I love you,” hand-written on the front. Inside was another message saying that she loved him, among other things.

Notable by its absence, though, was the phrase, “Thank you.” She just couldn’t bring herself to say it.

The Cosmos Thanks You

Some time ago, I was doing some work on Compassion Fatigue; mainly from the perspective of how to avoid it. As synchronicity would have it, though, I also went for an eye test that week.

After my test, I sat down with the “Frames Specialist” (read, sales woman) to choose new glasses. She commented that my choice of varifocals was useful for work.

I explained that I don’t work in the conventional sense. I am, for want of an easier explanation, a foster carer.

She immediately pounced on it and this random total stranger told me, “You’re doing a fantastic job. Well done.”

And I realised that it was not the first time something like that had happened.

A few years ago, my mother and I had taken the children to a café for lunch, and my granddaughter had been playing up. My mother, being old school, could not understand why I was dealing with the child in such a kindly manner. To be honest, the behaviour was getting to me, too!

Yet, as we left, a random total stranger sitting at a nearby table put his hand on my arm to stop me. He looked me in the eye and said, “You’re doing a fantastic job. Well done.”

Thinking about all these experiences it made me realise how often such things happen and that, even though we may not receive the expected gratitude from those we are charged to care for, we do receive gratitude. It’s as if the cosmos appreciates the work that we are doing to care for these poor souls who cannot care for themselves; who might otherwise be left to fend for themselves, maybe on the street.

So, next time the person you care for shows a lack of gratitude, think about all the times someone else has said it. And wonder whether, since that person doesn’t really know you, is it, perhaps, that the person was moved to say something, just when you needed it most?

Enough

We are enough.

Talyllyn

There is something calming about sitting, quietly, by a gently flowing stream. The flow of the water over the rocks and pebbles, the whisper of the wind in the treetops, the song of the birds as they celebrate life.

It makes you realise that:

• Today, you have enough

• Today, you are enough

• Today, today is enough

It’s so easy to worry about what yesterday brought, or what tomorrow will bring.

Yesterday is gone. Tomorrow has not arrived. Even this morning and this evening do not exist.

There is only now. And the stream. And you.

And it is enough.