Sharing, by Maude V. Preston

"There isn't much that I can do,
But I can share my bread with you,
And I can share my joy with you,
And sometimes share a sorrow, too....
As on our way we go.

There isn't much that I can do,
But I can sit an hour with you,
And I can share a joke with you,
And sometimes share reverses, too....
As on our way we go.

There isn't much that I can do,
But I can share my flowers with you,
And I can share my books with you,
And sometimes share your burdens, too.....
As on our way we go.

There isn't much that I can do,
But I can share my songs with you,
And I can share my mirth with you,
And sometimes come and laugh with you.....
As on our way we go.

There isn't much that I can do,
But I can share my hopes with you,
And I can share my fears with you,
And sometimes shed some tears with you....
As on our way we go.

There isn't much that I can do,
But I can share my friends with you,
And I can share my life with you,
And ofttimes share a prayer with you.....
As on our way we go."

This weekend, while I was home, I went upstairs in the top of our grainery and kicked nad punched on the punching bag and clacking board. It was really sweet....been a long time since I've done that, and it felt great. Besides the karate and workout equipment up there, however, are stacks and stacks of books that we inherited from my great grandma when she died several years ago. And as I was kicking on the clacking board, a silver book caught my eye. So I checked it out. It's called "Wings of Silver," and it ended up being a book full of Bible verses and words from people speaking about things like the fruits of the spirit. It was given to someone in my family as a gift in 1972 (there's an inscription on the inside). I haven't taken the time to read it yet, but it seems like a cool book. When I was leafing through it, though, I found an extra piece of paper stuck in it.....and that was the poem I posted above. It wasn't like a life-altering moment or anything like that when I read it, but I just really liked it. For me, it reminds me that love is simply sharing your life, your possessions, you time, your thoughts with someone. Spen and I talked a little bit on the way back to Oxford yesterday about loving through actions and not words, and I believe that's what this poem is saying, too. It's just good to be reminded of that sometimes.