I was doing my good deed for the day,
I only had to deliver his meal,
Give him a smile and a prayer,
Then walk away, job done.
But when he opened the screen door,
He had the look of someone who
had spent to many hours alone...
To many hours thinking about the
Tricks life can play on a person.
I saw that look in my own eyes
Looking in the mirror, to often.
The badge on my chest said 'Chaplain'
And I know to him it meant confessor,
And I hesitated knowing
That was not my mission here.
I told him I could only stay a minute,
Then listened as he told me about his wife,
Gone now for a decade, but his memory of her
As clear as glass.
'She was a damn good woman, ' he said
'A fine woman-just like you.'
Just like me, he said, as if he
Could see me deserving of a mans love
For half a century-like her.
I felt honored he would think so,
But I felt like a fraud too,
Knowing I was no where in the same league
As the woman who had been the love of his life.
I let him talk on, and absorbed
Every word, knowing he just needed someone
To hear him talk about her,
Validate their love, their life, somehow.
I felt at odds listening to their story,
At a moment in time when my own heart
Felt as if it had been kicked once to often.
My job was to offer comfort, but it seemed
He was comforting me, telling me
That it wasn't too late, to love,
That love lasts past death, past time
Love, is the only thing that matters...
Leaving him some hours later,
I felt humbled and joyous, and at peace,
And open to finding the man
Who will love me like that.
Sandra Brennan's Other Poems
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Comments about this poem (Good Deed by Sandra Brennan )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827)
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Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953)
- Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
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