Being Alive

At four-thirty this afternoon, I rustled my stumps and headed out for a walk in the sparkling sunshine, blue skies, crisp breezes – fifty -plus degrees. As I rounded one corner, heading for another, the melody filled my memory – Tis the gift to be simple –

It was sung most recently at the service commemorating those who lost their lives in Arizona, and for those whose battle for life goes on.

Being able to walk on a sunny Saturday afternoon, securely meant more to me than I can say – and as I walked I did it for myself, but also for all couldn’t join me – the folks who died and were injured in Arizona – our soldiers, the souls blown up by suicide bombers – flood-ravaged Australians, the babies who died in Philadelphia (http://www.worldmag.com/webextra/17549) – but especially for those who were too busy or distracted to enjoy their lives – it was quite a gift.

'Tis the gift to be simple,
'tis the gift to be free, . . .

So, too, are the gifts of walking, thinking – daydreaming of loved ones – having dinner with valued friends – living because someone – an unknown hero or heroine to me - stands guard, fights, or dies for me.

Simplicity, order, and freedom cost more than I can repay – more than I can reckon. Thank you.