Years ago, Shane gave me a beautiful
book of poetry by Ella Wheeler Wilcox.
There is an inscription in the front,
beautifully handwritten it says:
"To my dearest and best
mother, with fond love,
I love holding it and thinking nearly
100 years ago this very book was a
gift to 'Winnies' mother! When I
researched Wilcox I discovered that
has always been snubbed by the
literary crowd as a 'trite' and
'popular poet'. True she rhymes a lot
and her poems are mostly optimistic,
but her poetry yells and testifies at
conquering through suffering.
And can that really be trite?
Last night we watched the movie
'A Mighty Heart', there is a scene towards the end
where the lead character, Marianne
(played by Angelina Jolie) has just received news of her
husbands death (it isn't really a spoiler). She locks
herself in her room and screams and yells. It is really
difficult to watch, uncomfortable, I really felt that I was
invading a very personal moment (Jolie is great at crying,
e.g. girl interrupted). It brought me right back to the two
occasions when I have reacted this way. One of those times
was when I had just received news that my mums surgery was
not successful and she only had a few months left to live.
It was a surreal experience to hear my voice make noises
I had never heard before, I felt that I was
floating in the sealing watching myself lose it.
It is these kind of things that really threaten to break
your spirit. I find myself clinging on to my core beliefs
that have been shaken, that life IS beautiful, people
ARE good. That love DOES conquer. I am trying to learn
the poem below of by heart.
It is a principle I am clinging to. I never thought I
would get a tattoo, but I reckon 'Love Much' would be a
pretty good reminder to have permanently placed upon me.
Love much. Earth has enough of bitter in it.
Cast sweets into its cup whene’er you can.
No heart so hard, but love at last may win it.
Love is the great primæval cause of man.
All hate is foreign to the first great plan.
Love much. Your heart will be led out to slaughter,
On altars built of envy and deciet.
Love on, love on! ‘tis bread upon the water;
It shall be cast in loaves yet at your feet,
Unleavened manna, most divinely sweet.
Love much. Your faith will be dethroned and shaken,
Your trust betrayed by many a fair, false lure.
Remount your faith, and let new trusts awaken.
Though clouds obscure them, yet the stars are pure;
Love is a vital force and must endure.
Love much. Men’s souls contract with cold suspicion;
Shine on them with warm love, and they expand.
‘Tis love, not creeds, that from a low condition
Leads mankind up to heights supreme and grand.
Oh that the world could see and understand!
Love much. There is no waste in freely giving;
More blessed is it, even, than to receive.
He who loves much alone finds life worth living:
Love on, through doubt and darkness; and believe
There is no thing which Love may not achieve.