I wanted to be there, as a good friend should be;
I felt that my widowed sister needed me.
But from this responsibility, I was set free.
The community of church folk came to her aid,
And until her husband is, in peace, finally laid,
The only thing I've done for her is prayed.
I've learned to wait until I'm called to come,
Rather than thinking I should be the first to run,
Discovering that communities can act as one.
Sometimes it takes a bit of Divine intervention
To short circuit my old impulsive intentions
That have their own way of stubborn retention.
This time it took illness, of my man and myself,
To keep my impulsiveness on the shelf,
Reminding me to trust in her community's wealth,
Of compassion for those who are in need;
This they turn into every manner of deed.
This seems a part of their Christian creed.