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We know someone who almost gave up of life, at adult age, but held on.

Today, she looks at a past that might not have existed and values every second, every precious moment that earthly existence has given her.

Daughter, mother, wife and grandmother, turned affliction into a poem:

 Forgive me, Father, for the crazy ideas.

Forgive me, for wanting to unravel the future.

Forgive me, for not having faith.

Forgive me, for devaluing my life,

This life you lent me.

 

If I had died yesterday,

I would not have lived smiles, cried tears, sympathized with pain.

If I had died,

I would not have seen so much,

My big boy´s graduation, winning over college.

I would not have seen my daughter, in her first ball gown, her fifteen birthday, her first love, the first woman´s dreams...

 

How shall I say now, Lord?

Thank you, for the tears I shed,

For the dreams I lived,

For the light I received,

For the friends I have made.

 

Thank you, Lord.

For the presence of my children,

For the hands that I led them,

For the words I pronounced,

For the steps I avoided,

For the life I have enjoyed.

 

I pray, Lord,

May you pour upon us the light of wisdom,

So that we may gladly accept,

The life you gave us.

 

I still pray, Lord,

May you look out for those who have gone and for those who have stayed.

For those who no longer suffer in this life,

And the others, for their excruciating longing, in this delirious loss,

That even with faith, they did not stop crying.

 

Lord,

May there be peace and love in every home,

May they unfold, with other laughter and other dreams.

May your mantle involve them in sweet harmony,

In hymns of happiness!

 

These are the words of those who conquer the world, of those who understand the educational character of every experience, in the earthly existence.

I´m glad I did not give up. I´m glad I endured, that I understood, even against my will, the vicissitudes and trials that life presented to me.

I´m glad I did not get infected. I´m glad I did not betray my principles. 

I´m glad I only left here with these scratches, which hurt, yes, but that will soon be gone and after that, they will not even need to be remembered.

*  *  *

We are huge books, with multiple chapters and volumes. And giving up is like wanting to close the work, stop reading, because of a sentence, a paragraph that made us suffer, that we did not like, that was not written the way we expected.

Often, we are not even careful to reread that passage to try to understand it differently. We judged at first sight and left the world outraged.

In many cases, it was enough to be patient, to wait for the beginning of the next page and we would understand some reasons... But no, we hastily threw them all away.

Now, a work is much more than that.

In these moments of tension, may we return to the greatness of our book cover and see Who signs with us and feel safer.

Our name is written within Another Name, much greater and illuminated by infinite goodness, perfect and full of beauty.

Spiritist Moment Team, based on the poem
 Hoje eu não morri, by Nize Barrozo Prugner.
September 22.2022.