Yesterday I felt a clear leading to take a small action, responding to a concern that has lain dormant for me recently. Then today I re-encountered this poem.
The Golden Bracelet It was her prize possession A poor woman in a poor country A gift of her sponsor She cherished it not as a possession But as a token of friendship Whenever she saw someone she would say “Have you seen my golden bracelet?” This simple story About a woman I never met Brought tears to my eyes. Then I went shopping in the super store In my rich country Aisle upon aisle of things Why are we so attached to things? What will reconnect us to our soul?