A Kindness Crafted Upon This Laying Hands.
I was just three years old when my parents moved us from the growing bustle of the inner city to the lusher greens of a tucked away house in the woods.
My father built our house with his own two hands, ensuring care and placement was just as it should be. The larger tasks were shared with Amish farmers local to the community who kindly offered the materials resurrected from centuries-old barns. “It’s good,” I remember an older man saying as he pointed to a ‘disastrous, at best’ pile of dusty old bricks.
In spite of his hesitation, my father trusted – knowing only the strongest of brick could have held on so long. And through the years those bricks have weathered quite the ‘wearing storm’ – earthquakes, lightening strikes and several generations worth of child curiosity.
Still, they’ve never one lost the luster of their former years. And to this day, when I look at them I see the pride of their former owner.
“These bricks will outlast you,” he winked, placing the last stone in the hearth.
I can’t tell you how often I’ve shared in the warmth of his words; a kindness shared forward through the hands of another. It left me longing for those far more neighborly times, when help was given when help was needed – and never a soul turned away.
Though these days, it seems, we demand trust before love. Have we forgotten the criticality of our role within the landscape of this global need? Do we not yet understand the action of hand upon the building of faith?
Even from the youngest of age, we’re taught the impact of our actions. How then is the lesson lost? More specifically, how do we reclaim it?
For myself, just as the farmer, I encourage its presence and challenge its growth. I take bold steps beyond the limitations of my own trust; I reach where others are unwilling.
And hopefully in doing so, I can create a space where new stories of kindness are crafted upon a literal laying of hands.
A little something to consider, my friends – we are always the composite of choices made.