from this Moment, on

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in The Shelters,  of Kindness

(  behold this Flock,  of Grace  )

 

They arrive,  from anywhere,  without name or number,  rescued,  recovered,  or reclaimed from often desperate or destitute surroundings,  circumstances,  or abuse,  or from being ‘tagged’ for an early and unmarked grave within a system or society so overwhelmed with mismanaged or misguided intentions,  doled out with all but enough compassion,  concern,  or common sense,  that sympathetic and lasting remedies or resolutions are only found in the all-too-rare instances of extreme generosity,  perseverance,  and understanding,  and of course,  kindness . . .

Their ‘crimes’ against human sensibilities are those that only become obvious when they are cast out from among the ‘beloved’,  who are no longer able or allowed a chance to exist within a sanctuary offering those simple and precious acts of benevolence we ourselves could not live without . . . somehow surviving without a smile,  a touch,  a softly-spoken word,  or sustenance,  a roof over their heads,  a safe haven to call their own,  or just the warmth that radiates from the nearness of friends,  family,  or loved ones . . . the very air they breathe only echoes with the whispers of their abandon,  for they have found themselves no longer welcome or wanted,  by a world no longer listening to or well beyond caring for,  these once kindred spirits and companions . . .

Yet,  they were born in innocence,  and therefore with just as much right,  perhaps even a divine blessing,  to be called or regarded as God’s Children as are their human counterparts,  and are just as or even more deserving of our compassion or largesse than what defines our civic or social obligations,  or what we,  by statute,   bestow upon some of our own outcasts and misfits . . . by the sheer vagaries of fate or misfortune,  and the crush or cruelty that comes from having no other choice or defense against it,  is that the only promises in life they are guaranteed to know or have fulfilled,  are unending hunger,  and bone-deep loneliness,  for all the rest of their days . . . unless . . .

My sincerest hope,  and yes certainly the wish of every soul born into this world to ever witness or to wonder of this heart-rending travesty,  is that I can try to ‘lift them up’,  to ease the burden of their sorrows or hardship from their shoulders,  to give back to them what they have so selflessly brought into this heart of mine,  and if at all possible,  to begin to mend theirs . . . to listen to their stories,  to be their voice for as long as it takes for them to be heard,  or at least until they are lucky enough to find a new home,  and become significant and dear to others,  and in turn hold them as dear,  to live within the absence of fear,  and to one day re-emerge within the purpose God gave them,  to really matter in this world just enough,  to find and give love,  again . . .

And yes to thank them,  for being who and what they are,  and for bringing the reason ‘why’ back into my life,  and for allowing me a chance to really understand the true meaning of the word ‘humanity’ . . . which,  after all,  is exactly the reason why God adorned this earth with their presence,  and their purpose,  in the first place . . . because in their aspects,  we will always see grace . . . and in their eyes,  we will forever see,  ourselves . . .

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