A dog barked at my door one day. I poked my head out to see to the commotion. Compassion struck my heart. One glance into the creature’s dark, fearful eyes conveyed the kind of life it must have had. Starving, undernourished, scrapping for its next morsel. Its mangy pelt never saw a bath, brush, kind touch, or even a pat. Goaded by unfriendly neighbors, shooed away from passersby, and never accepted into a pack, it appeared lonely and untrusting. It didn’t help that it had only three legs. What terrible accident took the limb? How did it survive with no apparent care or concern reflected in its environment?
The creature snapped at me when I tried to handle it with utmost care. I desired to gain this canine’s confidence, to feed it, nurture it, show the dog that goodness subsisted in the world and kindness came through a courteous soul once in awhile.
When someone moves into your life for an unknown reason and the compassion you feel over his/her hardship propels you to befriend, feed. Take care not to get your feelings hurt when your hand gets bitten. For it’s learned behavior, acquired by frequent injustices. With continual empathy, patience, and a thick skin, in time a lovable, bouncing puppy will emerge from the downtrodden beast who discovers the genuine trust of a real friend.
A fascinating novel set in the Amazon prompted my four-star rating on Goodreads. Until I read the gripping sentiment at the end. I then upgraded it to the maximum five-star reader evaluation.
“And you will be my best friend, too—as long as we see each other with our hearts,” a character said.
My first thought was, Oh, that’s beautiful. My second thought was, Ouch.
What a rare and sacred thing to truly see with our hearts; and how easy it is to stop seeing.
While I don’t follow celebrities I happened to notice a recent headline about two actors divorcing. This struck me with certain sadness because I remember years ago sitting in my dermatologist’s waiting room
equipped with television, and the male actor on interview made such a spectacle of having been smitten with—yes, the love of his life, his forever after, happiness always gal. What happened? What happens to so many, too
They stop seeing each other with their hearts.
One of the reasons I love writing romance is that although you must have conflict in the plot, the relationship has a “happily ever after.” A “happy for now” (HFN) is acceptable in the genre, but just about everybody experiences a HFN sometime in their life. What’s stronger and notable: to realize an unending future in an equally meshed heart-seeing embrace; hearts that not only become one but remain one.