Mine is the sunlight, mine is the morning
Born of the one light, Eden saw play
Praise with elation, praise every morning
God's recreation of the new day
Morning has broken like the first morning
Blackbird has spoken like the first bird
Praise for the singing, praise for the morning
Praise for them springing fresh from the world
The little orphan and I walked down the mountain to the city to buy shoes. She slipped out of her small rubber sandals into a new pair, carefully counted 45 rupees (less than one US dollar) into the shopkeeper's hand, and walked away.
"Wait! " I called, as I reached for the discarded shoes. "You've forgotten your old sandals. "
She glanced back at me, "No, leave them," she firmly replied. "I only need one pair. Leave them for someone who has none. "
Love. Compassion.
I must practice.