by Lucy M. Young
A gift is not a real gift
Unless it hurts to give it,
And we can't find true joy in life
'Less it hurts a bit to live it.
To give away a useless thing
Or something we don't need
Is like throwing trash in the fire
Or pulling up a weed.
If we give away a lovely thing
We care about and treasure,
Our small amount of sacrifice
Makes giving it a pleasure.
Could we really see the beauty
Of a lovely sunny day,
If skies were always bright and blue
And never a stormy gray?
Could we enjoy a bright today
And never dread tomorrow
If we have not experienced
A bit of grief and sorrow?
So we must live with joy and pain,
And share our choicest treasure
To ever know true happiness
And love in boundless measure.
Woodsmoke and Cardamom 