In this world of democracies,
sociologies, and diverse economies
once lived a princess and the saint.
The princess of fragile beauty
was loved by her kingdom, but NOT
her society.
"She's too touchy, feely,
doesn't relish our regal socialite committee's."
"She shirks her rigid responsibilities...caring about what...
the people think?" gasp!
"Odd, is she.... displaying for everyone to see
the cleavage of her youthful bosoms."
One can only stand so strong.....before the hand at your back,
pushes you down.
Sorrowfully, down this princess went...
into the cellars of despair...
into the dark attics where only
"appearances" and "appointments" really matter.
Gone were the dreams.
Disappeared were the hopes.
Buried in yearnings to bring comfort,
hear the tears of the poor and suffering.
To be their "voice,"
give herself a life of "honorable" purpose.
The princess journeyed
to meet the Saint the Mother of all destitute and suffering.
The world's castaways,
sick with every feared violated disease.
Mother Saint labored through many sleepless nights.
Festive was not her life.
Not one soul died, left this world alone
withour her loving presence and prayers near....
a simple psalm....
"that they were truly loved."
Upon Mother Saint's lap
the princess laid her head.
Mighty tears of her innocence, naivity,
and outward mistakes flowed.
Mother Saint knew how precious
each one of these tears were...
and let her cry every tearful
sorrow out.
When the sobbing softened she tenderly spoke,
"you are dearly loved my child,
"all" your tears are treasured,
you have not been forsaken
or
abandoned, your strength, courage awaits
you in these tears."
"I ask you now sweet child...
"why is it you suppose
that despite all others, schedules, and noble goals...
you HEAR tears,
tears of young and old?"
It is with deepest humble honor
I hear the prayers of the dying.
Softly, desperately, seeking
to hear one kind word....and in this blessed moment,
I thank the Father, Creator of all
for the "strength"
he gives me to hear
these most precious of tears, words spoke.
Years later passed.
The Princess left the kingdom,
and her prince. He had grown weary
of such a demanding and "needy" girl.
The princess was now free
to journey more weightless...struggling
to learn, to treasure each one's tears,
use her abilities, her title's to call attention
to the suffering of others in this world.
Upon her death, a tragic accident,
surprising to all the world.
Mother Saint also passed,
it was her time to quietly leave this world.
Hand in Hand,
these two women of the world walked.
Before them appeared a throne of glorious omnipotent light.
I ask "you".... now,
did their lives make a difference?
Is there one "tear"
that I, you, we could hear?
Could we possibly find strength
in caring for each other's tears?
One ...teardrop... at a time,
we are humanities, cultures connected.
We struggle to learn "worth"
a kind word, laughter, compassion,
tolerance, and precious charity.
The Princess and the Saint.
Bronze trophy winner
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s ~Trisha~
