He calls a camper his home.
His worldly belongings
divided between the camper
and his vehicle,
he's full of gratitude for his circumstances.
Fully content to be where he is on the journey.
Easily listing all he's grateful for,
right down to the little cat curled up
at his feet every morning.
The cat he tried to leave behind
only to have it find him
again and again.
I watched his peace filled face as he spoke.
Observed warmth, sparkle and peace co-mingling
like a stained glass window
illuminating his soul.
For a split moment
I let it's rays
I had arrived at our meeting impatient.
Finding it next to impossible to be present.
Fretting over trying to fit an hour's worth of errands
into the 30 minutes left over before I had to leave town.
Where was I in such a hurry to get to?
A funeral luncheon.
Oh, the irony.
Between my friend's gratitude
and my arrival at the luncheon
I found myself in the grocery store
grumbling over the price of cat food and razor blades.
I can picture my friend
taking pure delight in feeding his little cat every day,
Smiling right up to his eyebrows
at life as it is
Giving thanks for being found
all over again.