Why do I write?

Not that long ago, I received a few letters from

someone who questioned why I write the things I write.

I spent several weeks delaying my answer to this question,

while I went on a mission that had me going through

ALL of my posted writings, copying every comment

that anyone had ever left me that spoke of what a

difference I had made because of something I said.

Page… after page… after page… and you’ll never know

how much what others have said has done for ME.

The one thing that kept echoing in my head was:

“How can I not write ?!!???”

That’s the tougher question.

How can I not reach out to someone who needs a hand?

How can I not share with another who is starving?

How can I not give to someone who is desperate?

How can I not touch someone who is within reach?

Some time ago, I watched the movie “Pay it Forward”.

I have much to say (at another time) about that movie,

but right now a particular scene comes to mind:

where a lady was about to jump off of a bridge.

What intrigued me was that she didn’t look the “type”

of person that would have any real worries—

let alone take her own life. So much for appearances.

Along comes this strung-out druggie who can’t seem

to get a leg up in Life and stand on it, with not much

going for him at all. He sees her, and tries to talk her

down off the edge of the railing. She tells him to go

away, that it’s not his problem, she’s not worth it.

He pleaded to her: “Do me a favor—Save MY Life.”

I want that to really sink in.

And while you’re really getting the depth of that,

I’ll tell you something that you already know –

and something that you don’t.

I believe that you and I have the power

and capability to make a positive impact

in the lives of those around us.

For those who really DO know this, you also know

that rarely are we aware of it, and seldom will we

ever know it happened! AND in many cases,

we’re not even directly involved!

Yet because of our words, our deeds, our actions –

YOU were the catalyst for change;

YOU were the hand that kept me from falling.

Yes, I said “me”.

Here is probably the only and last time I will share this –

I’ve been on that rail; I’ve been the one who wasn’t “worth it”.