His Name was Anthony

His Name was Anthony

I happened to glance at the clock…
it was 2:09 a.m.

Before heading out the door—
the words,
“Go…bring glad tidings to the poor,”
spoke to me.

Bursting into the frigid
air, I immediately spotted Luna—
she was covered in a swath
of clouded vapor.
Still, her luminous light
split the veil between us.

I spoke out, “glad tidings to You,”
and I began my trek.

I breathed in the chill of
the early morning…

I was not even 10 minutes
into my pace when
I heard cans spilling onto the concrete,
glass spattering all over the roadway
AND then a river of expletives…
white water, rapids spewing
from a stranger’s lips—
his cart full of cans
swallowed by a pothole.

I approached the man and said,
“I’ll help.”  He was surprised by my
presence and the first words spoken—
“I’m sorry for my language…
I got this far and…”

I said, “It’s alright—let’s pick-up
the cans,” and the man said, “Thanks.”

We pitched the empty bottles back
into the cart—the grocery store
ONLY a stone’s throw away.
The man said, “I don’t want any
of this glass to pop a tire…”  I said,
“Don’t worry we’ll sweep it to
the side.”

We worked together and before
going each our separate way,
we lifted the cart from its
abyss.  The stranger said,”Happy Holidays” and I replied,
“Merry Christmas”—
The man said, “Yeah,
Merry Christmas—Thank you.”

I looked into the night sky
and began to walk…
I was only a short distance
when the stranger shouted back,
“Hey, I AM Anthony.”
I waved back,  “Sandy.”

A shooting star spilled down
from the sky above

and I whispered,
“Thank you Anthony for
brining ‘me’ glad tidings.”


2 replies
  1. Marilyn Rossier
    Marilyn Rossier says:

    Oh that we all might live open to the voice of God and the presence of the Spirit in one another.
    Thank you Sandy.
    We miss you in Lee.
    Blessings at Christmas


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