A girl who is a mother,
a mother's mother,
and a little girl
who saw too much:
things her parents never
thought could happen,
"Mommy's shirt was blood."
she told me, matter of fact
like a four-year-old newscaster.
A runaway, an illegal alien,
an alcoholic on her third round
of inpatient treatment,
and me:
people who love you, Ruby.
People first.
A man who tried
to save the world but
saw it crumble around him
from the inside,
broken both by those who
loved and hated,
bedridden by compassion.
Child soldiers, angry bloggers,
well-meaning experts
and me:
people who hear you, Jason.
People first.
A mother rich in love,
two grandsons and two
pregnant daughters,
others waiting in the wings.
"Stage four" casts a shadow
over all the stages yet to come,
though hope upstages them all.
Pastors, friends, strangers
and me:
people who are praying for you, Mary.
People first.
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