I remember a Latin friend of mine named Monica. She found herself pregnant and bore a son. She was not a perfect girl, but her heart had been broken. Me personally, I’ve never had too much luck with women, it’s not my gift, I tend to tell the truth and it gets me banned from their presence, but I do remember Monica. I watched her give her problems to Christ every Sunday praying for forgiveness. Hurting because of her current situations I could often see the pain looking into her fragile eyes. In my past experiences in church I would often see innocent people at the altar and after a while I think a part of me snapped. I just got a little tired of seeing foster kids and broken people begging for a blessing. Feeling the heat after my last encounter at the altar some years ago, I recall seeing Monica with her little boy at a well known retail store. I kindly gave him a dollar. I don’t know where time went but most of the people I crossed paths with in the past have moved on and the little foster kids I used to see praying for a miracle are all grown up now. Time has somehow made some people bitter, but I’ve tried to stay optimistic. I call this piece the merciful sun because it keeps rising for us and a lot of us take that for granted. The sun shines even when we don’t deserve it. The other day out in the back field I noticed purple flowers and I thought about all of the people at the altar praying for a miracle. In deep meditation while observing the sun’s work, I kindly picked my purple flower of choice and gave one to every woman to show the sun’s mercy.
The Merciful Sun
Even in our pity it still shines for us.
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