How silly it was to fret

I nearly walked on by, too preoccupied with my own misery to see his.

The elderly man sat in a folding chair next to a large pile of dirt. With a long shovel, he scooped up a bit a dirt, then tossed it against the skirting of his trailer. One scoop, then he rested. One more scoop, then he rested.

“Can I help you?” I asked. “No, I’m fine,” he replied.

“How old are you?” “96.”

“Then I am going to help you.”

It didn’t take me long to spread the dirt, just long enough to set my own worries aside and look at life through someone else’s eyes.

At 96, he’s alone. His wife died 11 years ago. His children lead lives of their own. He showed me their photos, so proud, yet so lonely.

I had let myself stew all day over a speeding ticket and a lost necklace.

How silly; standing there holding that shovel, it all seemed so silly now. Sunday, the children and I returned to spread two more piles of dirt. “Love you for it,” he said as we left, then he handed me a poem (below) he had written.

I’m not sure who gained more from the afternoon — him or me.

My prayer for those who live alone

Thank you Sweet Jesus

• For staying by my side in all my daily needs

• For being my daily guide throughout these 96 years

• For good health

• For carrying me on my daily walks in my work from day to day, keeping pure my mind, my thoughts, my every deed, keeping me from fires, floods, fears; my every help in sickness and in health, I pray.

Thank you Jesus,

• For your love and forgiveness

• For one day at a time.

  I praise you, Lord and thank you Jesus with all my love to you , for sharing in my loneliness, in living alone with me.