When is the Night Over?

I love this story from the Tales of the Hasidim. Words to think about:





An old rabbi was asked by his students how they could tell when the night was ended and the day had begun.


"Could it be," asked one student, "when you can see an animal in the distance and tell whether it is a sheep or a dog?"


"No!" answered the rabbi.







Another asked, "Is it when you can look at a tree in the distance and tell whether it is a fig tree or a peach tree?"


"No!" said the rabbi again.


"Then when is it that you can tell the night is over?" the pupils demanded.

"It is when you can look at the face of any man or woman and see that it is your sister or brother. Because if you cannot see this, it will still be night."

Very wise words. Can you see?

The House By the Side of the Road

I came across this beautiful poem written by
Sam Walter Foss (1858 – 1911)
I love what it says about being no different than any other person and not judging. I'll just let the beautiful poem speak for itself:



The House by the Side of the Road

·There are hermit souls that live withdrawn
In the place of their self-content;
There are souls like stars, that dwell apart,
In a fellowless firmament;
There are pioneer souls that blaze the paths
Where highways never ran-
But let me live by the side of the road
And be a friend to man.
·Let me live in a house by the side of the road
Where the race of men go by-
The men who are good and the men who are bad,
As good and as bad as I.
I would not sit in the scorner's seat
Nor hurl the cynic's ban-
Let me live in a house by the side of the road
And be a friend to man.
·I see from my house by the side of the road
By the side of the highway of life,
The men who press with the ardor of hope,
The men who are faint with the strife,
But I turn not away from their smiles and tears,
Both parts of an infinite plan-
Let me live in a house by the side of the road
And be a friend to man.
·I know there are brook-gladdened meadows ahead,
And mountains of wearisome height;
That the road passes on through the long afternoon
And stretches away to the night.
And still I rejoice when the travelers rejoice
And weep with the strangers that moan,
Nor live in my house by the side of the road
Like a man who dwells alone.
·Let me live in my house by the side of the road,
Where the race of men go by-
They are good, they are bad, they are weak, they are strong,
Wise, foolish - so am I.
Then why should I sit in the scorner's seat,
Or hurl the cynic's ban?
Let me live in my house by the side of the road
And be a friend to man.

...What else is there to say but: AMEN!