Wednesday, May 5, 2010

Love, as defined by a four year-old

"'When someone loves you, the way they say your name is different. You just know that your name is safe in their mouth.' Billy - age 4"

Last weekend, I went to my first hospice volunteer orientation (another is to come this Saturday). Among the many other things that were discussed, one of their resident chaplains read aloud a list (which I found here) of the various, respective ways that various children defined love. The above quotation struck me more than any of the others, resounding in me for a while..

Perhaps this child had a different message to convey in mind when he said the above, but to me the first thing that came to mind was how I have no honor left to be found in the people I have loved's mouths. I cannot blame them-- the blame is all mine, no matter if they did wrong or not-- but I so wish that they had something to remember me for (and speak of, and love) than spite, hatred, and passive-agression. I broke all love they had for me, and now they proclaim it to the nations: Look! I have struck again in sly evil, yet my prey is not defeated!

The lack of love you hold for me shows. I know I cannot fall into your (or your people's) good graces. You remember me with disdain and so you speak of me with disdain.

My sins are many and well repeated; my love is buried. You love me not. You love me not. Never have you loved me. I am without advocate in this world, for I have done nothing to garner either the pity, respect, or admiration that causes one to uphold a name.

I remember you all.. The good and bad. If it's the least I can do, your name is safe with me. What's love if I cannot do that?

1 comment:

Marvin the Martian said...

I'm so proud of you, moving toward your hospice volunteership! Very cool. It's such an honor to spend time with those who are about to leave this life.

I think you are more loved than you know.