I forgot to turn my cell phone on the past two days. This morning, I finally put a new battery in it at the urging of my daughter. Two mesages rang through.
The first brought a smile to my lips as I listened to an awkward rendition of "Happy Birthday" from her. The second caused me to trip in my steps to my next mission.
The caller was a writer friend who I'd met a few years ago at another writer's group in town. Bob had left word that a writer we both knew had recently lost her husband. She wanted me to come to the service next week.
I haven't seen this woman in months and then only briefly. But at our last time of sharing, I'd learned her husband of 50+ years was dying. She'd put on a brave front but I knew her day-to-day life wasn't easy as she struggled to care for him at home.
I mentioned earlier this week how writers bond--how we strive to put our words on paper--how we strive to share our thoughts in an approved manner. How we are all hoping to make our dreams a reality.
But I don't have words today to adequately convey how this woman's request makes me feel. I'm moved that a writer, through a sprinkling of moments across a table in the backroom of a library, feels comfortable enough to reach out to her fellow writers in a time of deep need. I'm saddened because I didn't do more than offer a quick condolence when I first learned about her struggle.
We say so much through our written words but we say even more through our actions. Is there a writer in your circle today who might need more than a quick edit or a lead? Please don't shrug the nudge off--it might be your best opportunity to make a difference.