Read a quote on a tattered Iraqi poster : "What we give to the poor, is what we take with us when we die".
The saying got stilled deep in the heart with a chilling of bone. It was ethereal, yet so worldly. It posed a question to me, why isn't what we get from the poor that matters? I am not talking about money, just to be clear to those looking for irony.
We give to the poor the things they need that are under our self-constrained limits, but what we get from this is a belief that to live, is to help and give. This belief is precious. It keeps humanity sustained. The sense that one can help other is not a sense of pride for the giver, but of mutual happiness, in its uncontaminated form.
What you give, comes back to you as a solidified feeling of satisfaction. It stays with you like a clear sky over your head & it keeps your service recorded even after you die. Thus service is larger than life & to serve humanity, is a work of such souls whose purity cannot possibly be put into words.
"Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?"
The saying got stilled deep in the heart with a chilling of bone. It was ethereal, yet so worldly. It posed a question to me, why isn't what we get from the poor that matters? I am not talking about money, just to be clear to those looking for irony.We give to the poor the things they need that are under our self-constrained limits, but what we get from this is a belief that to live, is to help and give. This belief is precious. It keeps humanity sustained. The sense that one can help other is not a sense of pride for the giver, but of mutual happiness, in its uncontaminated form.
What you give, comes back to you as a solidified feeling of satisfaction. It stays with you like a clear sky over your head & it keeps your service recorded even after you die. Thus service is larger than life & to serve humanity, is a work of such souls whose purity cannot possibly be put into words.
"Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?"
& The King Replied: "Whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did to me."
Matthew 25:31-46
.jpg)
.jpg)
